The Fairytale Bureau
by captndevil
Summary: Killian Jones and Emma Swan have been rivals for as long as she can remember. They were too different: he was all neat when she was all messy, she was cautious when he was all danger. When one case makes them work together, can they put aside their differences? (Lawyers!AU). Rated M for later chapters.
1. Fresh Starts And Flirtations

**A/N: Back with a new CS!au story based around the idea that Emma and Killian are lawyers and are sort of rivals, it may be a little one sided;) We'll see but I hope you enjoy reading this. I'm so excited to start writing!**

 **Hopefully to be updated weekly as the chapters will be slightly longer than this one:)**

 **Please review?**

 **\- Shauna!xo**

* * *

Emma seethed outwardly, her features pulling up into a nasty scowl, forehead creasing with each movement with her green eyes narrowing into slits, determined on killing off the man in front of her with a cold look.

He looked placating, his demeanor calm and collected as he waited with a pokerface, lips pressed tightly together, looking away to give her the moment she needed-

-that pissed her off the most. Could these people not know her this well, please? It was irritating as hell when they knew how to calm you down and be rational when you just wanted to rage at the world.

"No," she got out between gritted teeth, "We've discussed this before previously. You knew what my conditions were when you took me on to be a part of this unit and they will not change just because you think I've been fraternising with-"

He cut her off immediately, "I never suggested in the slightest that the two of you were fraternising. I trust both of your judgements entirely, believe it or not. I merely implied that the two of you had struck up some sort of friendship which is not a negative thing, especially when our two units are so closely linked together despite the rivalry that sometimes exists. Everybody in this unit, including myself, just want everybody to get on as peacefully as possible."

She hated him at times. She hated how reasonable he could be and how much he could rationalise with her. The gift and a curse all in one, she was sure, of knowing someone for that many years.

She'd met him (her captain, Graham) when she was barely sixteen, before the whole Neal fiasco (and don't get her started on fucking Neal) and he'd been there for it all so she supposed she owed him one, owed him thousands really but this wasn't really something she felt like budging on.

It was Killian. Killian Jones. Her sworn enemy since she first started in this business and she really didn't feel like partnering with him on a case just because it was a bit more difficult than ones they usually handled-

-and they handled a lot. Just last month she'd convicted a reproductive abuser who had over 80 children, the pig, and never spent time with a single one of them and did she mention how much she hates men who can't be there for his kids?

Shaking her head, she comes out of her little trance before she has time to fully go down that route. Seriously. Don't get her started on fucking Neal, another asshole of her past.

"But it's Jones," she commented dumbly as if that somehow explained everything which it obviously did, to her at least but by the look on her captain's face, it wasn't to him.

"A well established lawyer, such as yourself, Emma," he reminded her, looking meaningfully at her, brown eyes focussed on her face as a small smile appeared over his lips.

She just sighed.

No. She didn't have to do this. Not in the slightest. They knew the terms of her conditions when she started working here and she told them they were non negotiable: she worked alone. Always. Why did that have to change?

"We've been through this. It is a very tough case which is clearly more complicated than anyone else is letting us know and it could be dangerous. Very dangerous. It wouldn't hurt to have an extra set of hands, especially if it helps us sway the case," her captain told her, now glaring slightly though not unkindly. He'd always been good to her and-

-oops. Had she been speaking out loud? She really needed to stop doing that.

"Captain-"

"So it's settled, I'll make arrangements for Mr Jones to arrive within the next twenty four hours. I'm sure he is very eager to begin and you are expected here at 8am sharp in the morning, don't be a minute late. Your partner may be even here before then," he added when he saw her about to walk off, the scowl still present on her face.

She had no idea why he had to make _arrangements_ for him since he lived in the city but well, did she really care?

"Fine," she muttered, looking withdrawn before something suddenly occurred to her, glare directed at him.

"Did you just say eager to begin? As though he already knew about this case and you've already asked him, Graham?" she screeched, her voice echoing off of the very thin, dark walls, her face scrunching up into a snarl as she growled.

His eyes had widened comically as though he hadn't quite realised he'd said that out loud and in any other situation of circumstances but right now she was pissed and rightly so if the look on his face was any indication.

She growled at him as he stepped forward, rubbing the soft skin of her arms in a comforting manner.

"I have, yes," he admitted, expression sheepish, small smile on his face as his dark blue eyes peered at her.

She restrained herself from growling at him a second time. Barely. Instead she glanced back at him, curiosity plastered over her face as her eyes narrowed into slits, "Why? Why wouldn't you just tell me? I thought we were friends and friends can talk to each other."

He sighed at that, pity reflecting through his dark orbs, making her groan inwardly. That look was never followed by anything good, more likely a lecture of something. Damn Graham and his ability to make her feel emotions she didn't want to.

"We are friends, Emma," he insisted, eyes narrowing in on her face.

"But sometimes I have to things for the good of our unit and that's what this was. It was," he insisted, adding that comment at the unbelievable look on her face, "Whether you believe that or not, that's entirely down to you but we do need Jones for this case. I barely like it more than you do, obviously, but he is experienced, like yourself, and we are going to need all we can get to win. And we have to win this case, there's nothing else to it."

She sulked, slumping slightly as she resisted the urge to pout, "I still don't like it."

He smiled at that.

"I don't expect you to but I do expect you to be friendly. Okay, Emma? We're all professionals here with the same responsibilities so it shouldn't be a problem, right?" he added, quickly forming back into the captain (leader of their unit) that she knew him to be. It almost made her smile. _Almost_.

"Fine," she muttered.

Growling at the pleased look on his face at her annoyance, she bumped his shoulder with her fists, grinning to herself as he outwardly winced. She was still grinning as she strode out of the precinct and right into her favourite bar where she planned on getting a little drunk. What? She' need it, especially if she had to deal with Jones.

 **XXX**

"Fancy seeing you here, Swan," _his_ voice rung out, announcing his very irritating and annoying presence, making her seethe internally.

"Go get run over by a truck," she muttered in reply, never flinching as she kept her eyes forward, glaring at the bartender as he tended to a group of rowdy blonde's and sighing when he came over to pour her a drink. Scotch. Just what she needed right now.

"Now, now, sweetheart, no need to get testy."

Growling, she downed her glass in one, wincing immediately afterwards as it burned her throat.

Did he seriously have to follow her? She just wanted one night. One night of peace, of acceptance before she had to deal with her real life. And his sudden appearance did nothing to grant her that.

The man in question suddenly plopped down in the seat beside her, his blue eyes sparkling down at her as she turned around in her seat, determined on motioning the bartender down once more when he leaned towards her, smirk widening as his teeth gleamed into the unclear light of the bar.

"That wasn't an invitation to stay," she grumbled.

He just grinned at that, "Why when are you going to learn my dear, Swan? Everything is an invitation."

He'd leaned forward halfway through his statement, twirling a blonde curl around his pinky finger, eyelashes fluttering upwards at her in temptation, his right dimple protruding as he smiled up at her. A true Killian Jones _I'm New York's most infamous bachelor_ smile, teeth digging into his bottom lip unconsciously as he scratched that one spot behind his ear that he always did, tongue swiping across his bottom lip in a seductive move.

She huffs at him, smacking his wandering hand away from his face just as it was drifting down to caress the soft skin of her cheek and glares at him, her eyes narrowing.

He grins once more at that, winking at her with those beautiful blue eyes of his to which she rolls her eyes dramatically at-

-would he ever take a hint?

"What are you doing here, hook?" she emphasises his moniker which she knows he hates, his eyes narrowing into slits as they zero in on her face to which she shoots him a smug look, lips thinning out.

She still remembers the day he'd got that. It was the eighth or ninth case he'd won and he'd got into a habit of blaming others for the crimes that he knew his client had committed so he'd hooked others in, playing the innocent card to get them there. She'd started calling him Hook and one way or the other it had caught on as everybody starting using the nickname. Now, he was known as the infamous Hook, the brutal lawyer with one of the highest rates in New York much to her dismay.

He didn't seem to mind the name, she had first thought. He never corrected people when they called him that anyway but after a while, he'd demanded she call him Killian to which she had smirked at, shook her head and marched away.

When she shook herself out of her daydream of the past, she found him glaring down at her, baby blues piercing into her as he gritted his teeth, upper lip curling in on itself.

"Swan," he warned, his voice low and husky as he snarled, the words so biting you'd think they were the world's biggest insult.

"Whatever," she muttered in reply, turning back towards the bar when the bartender arrived, pouring her the sixth glass of the night or was it her _seventh_? before disappearing once more in pursuit of tips.

She felt his heated gaze on her as she sipped at her drink. Slowly this time, she had to remind herself. There was no need in getting smashed the night before work, was there?

He sighed, hand reaching up to drill his fingers on the bar top, waving the bartender down for himself some rum, typical down to the last moment, she mused.

"Word is, we're about to be partners, love," he commented as he looked towards her, expression cool and collected once more, the perfect definition of a poker face.

She almost groaned out loud, she really did not want to discuss this right now. Or at all. But of course _he_ did.

Screw it, she inwardly thought before downing the glass in one, "Well, this has been great but I'm gonna take off now. We should do it again sometime," her voice leaked with sarcasm and she knew it. Sarcasm she could deal with. Sarcasm meant she was in control, in check of her feelings.

And so with that, she fled, marching out of the door without looking back, muscles rigid as she hauled a taxi back to her spacious apartment and well-

-if she heard a yell of "Emma", she just ignored it, increasing her pace to the taxi slightly.

 **XXX**

She arrived at work the next morning half an hour before her boss had demanded she be there because if there's one thing she hated, it was tardiness and she knew Graham felt similarly to her.

She regretted her decision almost immediately when a certain Killian Jones was resting casually across her desk, arm propping his head up as he grinned at her when he caught her sight of vision, making her sigh loudly. _Be nice_ , she had to remind herself, _Graham told you to be nice_.

"Fancy meeting you here, Swan," he grinned, blues sparkling up at her as she got closer, immediately pushing him off her desk with a huff and plopping down in her very comfortable, red, cushioned chair.

He merely gave her his infamous smirk, resting against her desk at the side of her once more, much to her dismay.

"And you've used that line one too many times on me," she told him with an eyeroll.

"Don't fix what's not broken."

She snorted that and he looked like he wanted to say more, his mouth opening on lost words-

"Good morning," a loud voice rung out, making her groan, out loud this time much to Killian's amusement. If there was one thing she didn't want to deal with more than an annoying Killian, it was an irritating upbeat Belle. There was just no need to be that happy about, well, anything this early on a morning especially not without coffee.

The girl in questioned just smiled at her, luckily Belle had been in the department long enough to realise she didn't do mornings. Ever.

"No need to be rude to the employee's, Emma, I do believe the captain told you to be nice," August's teasing voice rang out as he stepped forward to embrace her in a tight bear hug.

"You know I don't do mornings," she grumbled, hand clutching the starbucks coffee cup he passed her, sighing in delight at the hot, warm taste. Starbucks was a way of life, she'd swear by it.

Killian (who had been watching the exchange rather silently with an odd look on his face, one she couldn't list) spoke up, "So that's why you're even more irritable this morning."

August looked almost startled at the voice before shaking out of it and regarding Killian with cautious eyes who seemed to catch on immediately.

"Sorry," he grinned, "Guess I never really introduced myself, did I? Killian Jones."

He held out a hand which August immediately took, grasping his hand firmly as he grinned at the lawyer.

"August," he said by a way of introducing himself, "It's so great to finally put a face to the name. Graham says you're one of the best lawyers in New York, sorry Ems," he added, shooting her a sly look to which she rolled her eyes at.

"I certainly try," he laughed and it sounded almost... nervous?

She snorted before retorting sarcastically, "Wow? You're actually going to show modesty?"

"First time for everything," he sniped back.

"Now, didn't I tell you to be nice to our guest, Emma? He is doing us a favour, after all he doesn't have to be here," Graham's loud _I'm the captain_ voice rung out, making her groan once more, outwardly rather than inwardly if the matching smirks off Killian and August were any indication-

-and they _so_ weren't allowed to spend any time together. They'd be ganging up on her in no time.

"Sorry," she muttered in reply, gaze drifting to the floor with no sincerity in her voice.

Graham sighed at her half assed apology before shooting an apologetic glance at Killian to which he nodded greatfully at.

"Well, let's get to work, shall we? No time like the present. Conference room in ten. Everybody," and with that he turned around and marched back up the stairs to which he had previously walked down with Belle following.

The current bane of her existence was suddenly forced into her line of vision, holding out an elbow in a show of oldfashioned gentleman nicety which she had no interest for at all. Or him.

"Shall we, Swan?" he was grinning at her like he was proud of himself. Proud of himself!

She merely huffed at him, barging past and started stomped up the stairs before twirling around when she was half way up them with the lack of heavy footsteps, "Well, are you coming?"

She soon heard the heavy, masculine footsteps behind her that time which she chose to ignore, only meeting his eyes when he held the door open for her to step into the conference room as he shot her a smile and damn him into the deepest pits of hell because it actually looked genuine. And that was not good for her emotions of feelings. It stirred something inside her, something deep. And she didn't like that.

So being who she was, she burried it deep where no one would ever find it, lips pressed tightly together and covered it over with fake bravado, immediately diving into the case. And well, if the look of pure disppointment on his face broke her heart a little, she never registered it.


	2. Game Changers

**A/N: So please don't hate me? Some angst coming up I guess, just thought I'd warn you all!**

 **Just to clarify: Graham is the captain (in charge of the unit), Killian and Emma are the lawyers and everyone else is detectives in case anyone gets a little confused.**

 **Please review? It was really nice hearing all of your opinions on the first chapter so I hope you all like this one too!:)**

 **\- Shauna! xo**

* * *

It had been two weeks. _Two weeks_. Although, it did feel remarkably like an entirely too long eternity. She's had to endure his flying innuendo's and him trying to be charming and a gentleman and could it please just be over already?

She really didn't know how to deal with this any longer so she prayed for all that was good in this world that this case was almost over.

It was a very _sensitive case_ , Graham had told her and as such she had to handle it with _severe sensitivity_. He could have just said: _Hey, Emma, don't be a complete bitch to everybody for this case_. It might have had more effect, he knows she appreciates honesty above almost everything.

"Autopsy results have just been sent in," a loud voice boomed out, making her drop the pen in her hand down onto the desk with a loud plop from where she was previously tapping it repetitively.

"And?" she looked at August with a dumb expression on her face, willing him to continue.

"Said the rape kit was inconclusive-"

She groaned at that, "Great."

"-but they said that at the time we found her she had to have been dead atleast twelve hours, the body temperature was quite low but they've narrowed down the cause of death was a blow to the head. However, the girl had been badly beaten before that," he continued.

"We already knew that," she pointed out.

He shrugged, "We've got the impression she was almost dead when he hit in the back of the head with something. The dent suggests that it would have had to be fairly large and heavy, the imprint almost looks like a hockey stick."

"A hockey stick," she murmured in disgust. _Hm_.

He nodded at her before she sighed.

"Unfortunately that doesn't really mean much without the evidence to support it. We're going to have to find the murder weapon."

"And the culprit," he reminded her and she sighed heavily.

"Have the detectives questioned the family yet?" she asked, getting up from her office chair.

"They are now. Not sure how long they'll be," he told her.

Sighing heavily, she nodded and collected her flash which contained her coffee from her desk, collecting a few of the papers she had before resigning to the fact that she had to go consult Jones.

"Where are you going?"

"Where do you think?" she retorted, the dismay she felt at who she had to see evident in her voice.

He winced slightly at that and she knew why: she never snapped at August. _Never_. She sighed in response.

"Sorry," she muttered, shaking her head slightly, "I didn't mean to bite your head off like that. I know it's not your fault."

"That you have to work with the man you're going to pretend you're not attracted to but everybody in the presinct knows you both have feelings for each other and you cover it over with this rivalry?"

She really wanted to punch that smug look off his face right about now.

"Go do your job," she bit out, walking away and heading to the stairs, "I expect to know everything about the victim's family and friend's by this time tomorrow."

"I'll take that as a yes," he chuckled, not the least bit fazed at her attitude as she marched away from him.

 **XXX**

"Jones," she greeted, albeit abit grudgingly.

"Swan," he exclaimed in that accent of his. _Ugh._

She raised an eyebrow at his happy tone, plopping down into the seat opposite him in his office (yepp, he already had an office here: the pretentious moron).

He leaned forward in his desk, blue eyes sparkling up at her as he bit down on his very red, plump lower lip (purposefully that is in a seductive move he knows drives most women crazy), teeth nibbling down and teasing the skin there, making her breath hitch in her throat-

-and damn him, because if the shit-eating grin on his face was any indication... then he damn well knew what he was doing.

She forget what her line of thought was ten seconds later because he was suddenly smiling up at her, left dimple prodguding as his lips parted sinfully.

"Here to admit you find me devishly handsome?" he teased.

She laughed at the hopeful tone to his voice, shaking her head slightly before freezing her muscles up altogether at the surprising warmth inside her. Her bottom lip dropped slightly, the shock clear on her dynamic features if the concerned expression on his face told her anything. He leaned forward on his elbow's, hand reaching out to hers (where it was placed on the edge of his desk).

He had just touched her when she quickly backed up, the warm pressure on hers shocking her into motion.

She tried to deny the fact that she saw a hurtful expression crossed over his face before he displayed it with a collected one, no staring cooly at her as she coughed (she wanted to make sure her voice didn't sound breathy and emotional when she spoke).

"There's been some new evidence on the-"

"I'm aware," he interrupted with his steely voice, almost making her jump back in surprise, "August mentioned earlier today."

He hadn't spoke to her like that... with a voice that sounded all hurt and betrayed since they'd started on this case (or since that fatal day when he'd claimed they were no longer enemies last year if she was honest with herself) and he'd made it his life's mission to win her over, he'd even told her so-

- _"In your dreams, Jones," she had retorted back to him_.

"Oh."

Damn August and his sneakiness. She really needed to have a talk with him about professional behaviour: there really was nothing going on between the two of them, especially now if his snappiness was anything to go by.

Not that she blamed him, of course. If she'd been the one to be speaken to like she'd spoken to him, she would have been rude a long time before now and probably even have a restraining order against herself. She wasn't exactly known for her subtly.

He was still looking at her with those god damn eyes when she coughed again, "I'm sure the captain would want to see us, he wants to be made aware of all the changes in the case."

"Of course," his voice was cold but not completely unkind though it was still rather rude (much deserved though, she reminded herself).

She scowled nonetheless, "Have you heard anything from the detectives?"

He shook his head, "I know as much as you do."

Scowl still present on her face, she abrubtly stood, almost knocking over the chair in the process, much to the amusement on his face. Her glare increased at his barely controlled laughter.

"I'll see you down there then," she muttered before slamming the opaque door behind her.

 _Asshole_.

 **XXX**

He was still staring at the door that had vibrated when Emma had disappeared five minutes later, the frown on his face much more visible as his forehead wrinkled in result.

Maybe, he shouldn't have-

No. No. Dave was right: he should know when to cut his losses if he was so clearly losing and Emma Swan clearly didn't want anything to do with him (the hate rolled off her in waves the majority of the time she was in his presence). Therefore, why should he put the effort into something that was never going to happen? Exactly, he shouldn't.

All the way down to the captain's office, that's what he kept repeating to himself: she didn't want him and they weren't anything so why would she care?

 _"You really need to stop brooding about, Killian," Will (his roommate and best friend of five years) told him pointedly as he lazed on his friend's couch._

 _"I don't know what you're talking about, mate," he retorted, avoiding him and his concerned glances._

 _"Yes you do," he insisted, glaring now, "Do you really think she's waiting about for you? That she'd think twice about seeing another man if the opportunity aroused itself? Well, let me tell ya: she wouldn't. So, get your act together and get yourself a date. Heaven knows, it might even be good for you!"_

 _He shot him a scowl, gritting his teeth together._

 _"I have no interest in seeing anyone."_

 _He snorted in response, "Yeah, when have you ever 'seen' anyone?" he air quoted before continuing, "Up until last Summer you were quite the ladies man."_

 _"Please never say that again."_

 _Will chuckled at his theatrics in response._

 _"Come on, mate. I have a date tomorrow night and she has a sister-"_

 _Killian cut him off before he'd even finished, "So this is about you wanting me to do you a favour, not you being concerned about my wellbeing."_

 _His friend grinned in response, "Why can't it be both?"_

 _He just groaned, head flinging back against the comfortable couch._

 _"Fine," he relented not much later after much insistence on Will's part, the man's smirk widening at him to which he rolled his eyes at._

 _"You never know," he started conversationally, "It might even have the opposite effect on what's her name-"_

 _"Emma," he interrupted._

 _"Right. Emma. Well, you see, mate, hearing that a man you like is going on a date sometimes sparks a certain feeling."_

 _His ears perked up at that, smile spreading over his lips slightly because if this worked-_

 _"See, told you it was in both of our interests," he winked before disappearing completely from his sight of vision._

"Jones?" he vagely heard someone say, obviously trying to get his attention.

"Hmm?" his head snapped in the captain's direction.

"You okay over there?" It was Belle this time, grinning at him.

He laughed awkwardly, hand coming up to scratch behind his ear, nodding, and from the corner of his eye he saw Emma's head snap towards his before she regretfully let her eyes fall downwards. He almost frowned at that, catching himself.

"Leave him alone. The man has a date tonight. Bet he's nervous," August astonished, exchanging a smirk and a wink with him before glancing meaningfully at Emma's silhouette. He questioned it immediately-

-how did he?

He shook his head and let out a quiet chuckle, "Takes a lot to shake my nerves, Booth."

"Oo, confident. I like it."

He chuckled again, this time louder.

The banter continued between the two of them until the captain wrapped up the meeting. It was no secret that the two of them had formed some sort of friendship. However, he didn't completely missed Emma's reaction. He didn't miss the way her fingers curled inwards into a fist and the way she gritted her teeth, upper lip curling inwards on itself as she stared on.

In fact, he could swear she even growled out loud (albeit under breath).

She never had been in control of her emotions that much and he knew she hated that fact.

 _"Open book," he had teased her just last week_. _She had glared at him in response and he had simply winked at her before striding off in the opposite direction_.

 **XXX**

He was... dating?

She generally couldn't believe it with the way he'd been with her in the past few weeks. He'd been all charming and even soft and gentle with her, all patience as he'd listened to her.

She'd even believe he had been genuine, even if she hadn't acted like it.

Then again, she really shouldn't be surprised. He was one of New York's most infamous young Bachalors after all and she had no idea why or even when she thought otherwise.

Well, he could go rot in hell for all she cared.

She repeated that saying in her head over and over again as the meeting came to close, denying the fact that her gaze shifted over to him every thirty seconds or so, eyes drifting over the scruff and dimples as he laughed along with August.

She didn't want him, not at all.

She even repeated that saying as the meeting officially ended, the captain sending everyone off with a goodnight.

She saw Graham stage whisper "Don't stay up too late" to Killian as they all walked out of the office.

She growled, brushing past him, her shoulder bumping into his as she marched away with a mutter of "Asshole" as she left.


	3. Lustful Quarrel

**A/N: I officially have a beta now so expect slightly longer updates however they may be longer to wait so sorry!**

 **Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this chapter!:)**

 **\- Shauna! xo**

* * *

Well, aren't you looking spectacular this fine morning, Swan," a loud voice rung out from directly beside her and the irate pounding that was currently going on inside of her head-

-she maybe shouldn't have drunk that second bottle of tequila last night. Oops.

"You're in a good mood," she muttered as he clambered down beside of her, much to her own dismay. She really couldn't catch a break today. Could everybody just leave her alone to soak in her misery, please? It was not such an unreasonable thing to ask, was it?

"And you're hungover."

She raised an eyebrow at him as she turned towards him, shooting him a well deserved scowl in the process with her upper lip curling downwards and over her top teeth and wow that hurt. Note to self: do not twist.

"What?" he said innocently, his shoulders shrugging as his eyes widened, "I thought we were stating the obvious."

Killian Jones was just so not what she needed to deal with today. Damn him and his flying innuendos and his sinful mouth and-

She growled under her breath, the sound coming out breathy and raspy as she try to play it off with a chesty cough that sounded just as winded. This was all due to her thoughts of thinking she could drink her weight in tequila on a work night. She blamed August for this one, all-

" _Come on, Emma, it'll be fun! Shots are half price."_

(She really needed to stop listening to him)

Instead of glaring at him like she desperately wanted, she settled for scowling at the table surface, her face wrinkling in disdain as she realised that caused her headache to come back with startling clarity. Gripping her forehead, her nails dug into the skin there as though it would disappear (wishful thinking, she guessed). It felt like a high pitched ringing in her ears that sounded suspiciously like her alarm clock (which she also ignored daily). Okay, she just needed to not move for the day. That was the new plan.

"Now, now, Swan, no need to be so testy. I'm, after all, just being a perfect gentleman to you." Her head snapped back up towards his at his voice and the feel of his presence, his shoulders lightly pressing up against hers as the breath in her throat hitches, much to her own dismay (her body's reaction to him was such a traitor sometimes).

He was grinning now, that one that caused his left dimple to poke out (rather cutely in her opinion) and enhance the faint, red scar on his cheek and damn, everybody knew she had a thing or two for body scars. Ugh.

She pressed both her index fingers towards her temple, massaging there lightly before two callous hands knocked them away, replacing them with his own. She tried to resist him for a while. She really did. However, the feel of his fingers moving swiftly and firmly over her skin was enough for anybody to give in. She practically moaned out loud at the feeling, her eyes drifting shut as she relaxed her head backwards and bumping against the soft skin of the red, reclining seat. God, it felt so-

"I do hope you make those sinfully beautiful noises when I eventually bed you, Swan," he said huskily, lips brushing against her ear with every word and she swore she even felt his teeth there at some point.

Seriously though, she really needed to quit this thing where she spoke out loud what she was thinking. It was getting to be rather irritating and embarrassing. Her eyes flew open at his voice, widening almost comically as she registered just what was happening and who she was with.

In her haste to get away from him, she almost tripped over the bottom of her seat, feet scrambling to stay upright. Suddenly, she felt a pair of callous hands gripping her arms steadily and helping her to stand. She flinched away, almost immediately as she felt, rather than saw, him backing away from her. Feeling the burn spread across her cheeks, she bit her lip as her gaze focussed on the rather fascinating patterns of the flooring.

When she looked up he was sprawled cockily in the chair, his legs parted with his right hand resting on his belt buckle as he bit his lip back at her, tongue swiping sinfully against his lower lip as his opposite hand came upwards to stroke that god damn spot behind his ear.

She glared back at him, feeling anger resurface (and momentarily ignoring her splitting headache).

"I bet that's what you say to all the girls," she retorted, arms crossing over her chest as she glared at him, eyebrows furrowing as her eyes narrowed into slits.

He frowned at that, mouth parting as though to say something when Belle came waltzing through the door. "Good morning you too, how are we?"

Her happy, joyful voice rang out, much to Emma's annoyance. God, she couldn't lose that optimistic look for one goddamn second could she? "Fine," she muttered, taking her seat as far away from the man she was previously in a discussion with as was possible in the small room just as the rest of the unit came piling in, Graham taking the seat at the head of the long, black table.

"So what do we know?" Graham asked, specifically looking at the detectives involved in the case.

She drowned most of it out, the detectives commenting on the girls family and what they'd found out from her many friends. Turns out she was your classic it girl (head cheerleader, top grades in the majority of her classes, liked by all teaches head of most committees). But not one person had a negative thing to say about her, nor could they mention anyone who may have held a grudge against her.

Bullshit. At least one person hated this girl. Her death was proof of that. She had been raped and killed (rather brutally), hence someone strongly disliked this girl and decided to act on it. Pigs.

"...circumstantial. Right, Emma?" a loud voice rung out.

"Hm?" Seemed she had fallen a bit out of the conversation, drifting out into her own world. Woops.

Killian shot her an annoyed look, clearly irritated as he repeated himself.

"Yes. Circumstantial," she agreed, "Regardless of who the perp is as we currently have no leads. The fact that the person had to be left handed to commit the crime will not hold up in court, not without further evidence."

"But her father is right handed-"

"Which is irrelevant if you don't have any more further proof," she told the two detectives (Smith and Thorne were the leaders of the investigation) were staring at her, "As I said: it will not hold up in court."

She didn't really handle the detectives much, in any of the cases she took really. Graham would alert her when there was a new lead in the investigation and she would sit down with them.

The two of them looked as though they were about to argue further when Graham cut them off with an order, "Keep an eye on the father, inconspicuously. Though, I want you to continue asking around to see if you can find anything else about our victim."

She vaguely heard a joint mutter of "Yes, Captain" as they strode off, clearly responding to Graham's wishes.

"Jones. Swan. Read over the notes from the autopsy, make sure we haven't missed anything. If anybody has an eye for missing the finer details, it's you two," he demanded, although his voice turned soft towards the end.

Sighing at the revelation that she was stuck with him for the day, she walked out the door with him following closely behind, not missing Graham's soft smile and August's wink-

-she glared at that one.

"You know, Swan, a man lesser than me would take those scowls and glares personally. However luckily for you, I love a challenge," he told her as they walked out of the door, his arm brushing up lightly against her.

She soon turned her glare towards him, "Just put a sock in it, Jones."

A day with Killian Jones. What could possibly go wrong?

 **XXX**

Emma sighed, miserably. It had been two hours since the captain had dismissed her. Well, her and Killian (Jones, it was always Jones). They'd been going over the autopsy results and wow that woman must love to write because she was detailed.

Regardless, Emma was positive that there was nothing in the very long report that would help them win this case. She swore she'd gone over it ten times, looking for any identity they could have missed however nothing was shining through.

Killian had been oddly quiet since they'd started, sitting silently in his reclining chair (they had gone to his office, much to her dismay). His eyes had never strayed from the paper in front of him, scanning the words very carefully-

-and no she was not staring, okay? She had just... looked. Just a little bit. Inbetween sentences, a little bit, nothing more.

"I think that's it for today," his loud voice rung out and she startled, eyes snapping up to his immediately. He was sat with a clenched jaw, tongue ticking as his hand twitched on its position on the large, wooden desk. Her eyebrows furrowed as she took note of his posture. She didn't think she'd ever seen him look so… not in control of his emotions.

She was use to the free Killian Jones. The one who flirted with her more than anything and the one who had no qualms with riling her up beyond belief. The man in front of her... he just looked like a stranger. His eyes were hollow, empty looking as they glanced briefly at her before dropping to look down at his lap once more. And, well, no one ever accused her of being tactful so she couldn't stop the next question from passing through her lips, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

A strange look passed over his features and for a second, his eyes lost their vacant look, blue eyes shining as his eyes paused over her face. However, the walls soon came surrounding him again.

"I have no idea what you mean," he retorted.

She raised an eyebrow in response before shrugging, "Fine."

Her eyes drifted back to the papers on the desk, eyes moving carefully over each word. However, in the disclosure of full honesty, she would not be able to tell you one word of what she just read. Not when she felt his eyes on her, his stare never faltering from her face.

"What?" she bit out.

"Guess I just didn't expect you to give in so easily," he told her, watching her carefully with

guarded eyes as she relaxed back into the hard seat, dropping the files in front of her.

She shrugged once more, "Not really any of my business. It's not like we're even remotely close to being friends. We're just two people who happen to be working together on a difficult case due to the orders of both our captains. You're free to keep whatever you want to yourself."

His jaw was ticking as she finished, fingers clenched together in a fist on top of the table with his fingernails digging into the soft skin of his palm as he turned his intense look towards her, blue eyes staring her down. She swore he even let out a small growl.

"You know," he pronounced the words very carefully as though talking to a misbehaving child, "that we are more than that."

"Are we?" she countered, leaning forwards on the desk just as he did, their gazes not drifting from each other.

He didn't reply, merely settling for glaring at her, teeth digging into his bottom lip as his lips thinned out into a fierce scowl. Abruptly, he stood as the old desk shook with the ferocity, unstable on the gold towers currently holding it. She followed suit, stumbling forward as he strode towards her, hands looking odd as they dangled loosely by his sides in his rigid and tough posture.

"Yes," he hissed at her, face at an uncomfortable length from hers.

She snarled back at him, eyes narrowing into slits at his behaviour. "So that's why you celebrated that fact by going out on a date last night?" she retorted, the question coming out as rhetorical on her lips.

He faltered slightly at that, taking a visible step backwards and he almost looked as though she'd struck him. He nodded to himself, muttered something beneath his breath which she didn't catch.

He stumbled a few more paces backwards, almost falling back into his chair. "You're right," he muttered.

She inwardly did a double take. What the hell was wrong with him? And why the hell was he acting like this? He was seriously going to give her whiplash one day. And since when had Killian Jones backed down from a fight.

"I don't know why I ever expected anything different from the ice queen," he muttered humorlessly chuckling to himself.

"Excuse me?" she startled, almost thinking she misheard the comment but one look at his face made her realise. No she didn't.

"What?" he barked out once more, "You don't like hearing the truth?"

"The truth? What truth?" she spat out, glaring at him. She was speechless now. Yes, she was aware that people called her the Ice Queen. Ever since her first case, which was conveniently right after her break up with Neal.

They were face to face now, him coming to stand by her side of the desk, leaning rigidly against it as he glares her down. "You get close to someone, you go running. You always run. Because that's the way to go, isn't that right, Swan?" he mockingly asked, sarcasm dripping from each word.

Her eyes narrowed at him once more. "Close? We're not even close," she stood, pointing her finger at him, poking him squarely in the chest, "You and me, we're nothing."

He sneered at her, "Because you won't let me in. If you don't let somebody in, then they can't hurt you. Isn't that right, Swan?" he spat the words out at her as though they were insults.

"You've been here two weeks," she continued, "What did you think I'd just let you into all my secrets after a few days when I've been trying my god damn best not to strangle you?" she finished as though she hadn't heard him.

"What? Let you in? When you don't seem to care about letting people in yourself. I know what you were up to last night." She sneered straight back at him as she registered his words. Two could play this game. And she was well aware of what he had been up to last night.

He looked shocked at that, pulling up as he startled.

She laughed humorlessly. "What? You didn't think I'd know? Word on the street is that you were all over your date. Couldn't keep your hands off her until you reached your apartment. And I'm sure I can guess what happened next," she scoffed. He really couldn't get off on telling her how to behave and how she should let him in when he'd already screwed it over for himself.

She'd been close and giving him the chance to prove he wasn't who she thought her was. But reality caught up as it always did, especially when she saw all those pictures of him plastered across the magazine she'd passed on her way into work. _New Yorks infamous bachelor at it again_ , it read.

"You sound jealous," he retorted.

"Jealous?" she managed to get out, upper lip curling as she glared. He seriously thought she was jealous? Damn his egotistical ass. He could seriously go fuck himself, or get run over by a bus. She'd love to have a gun on her right now. He stood there, looking shell shocked as she shook her head, huffing. "You know what? You can go straight to hell and-"

He cut her off as his lips came crashing down on hers as he pushed her back against the desk, muffling her surprised gasp with his own quiet groan. His arms came around her, securing her against him as he sighed, nibbling down on her bottom lip. She immediately responded, mouth parting as his tongue tangled with hers. Her eyes slid shut as their lips moved effortly together, his hand reaching up to wrestle itself in her blonde curls. She felt him sigh against her as her hand came to rest against the nape of his neck, tugging roughly on his dark hair.

It took all of three minutes for reality to come back to her and she pushed him back hard.

"Wh-What?" she managed to get out. and wow, her voice sounded way too breathy for her liking.

He just stared at her, blue eyes all intense and dark with lust as they flickered from her jade eyes down to her now puffy and swollen lips. His tongue was swirling out against his bottom lip as his hand scratched that spot behind his ear.

She was aware that her chest was huffing as she breathed heavily, her pulse racing as she glared across at him.

"Screw it," she muttered before she tugged on his neck and yanking him forward to press her lips against his.


	4. Running

**A/N: I've wrote and rewrote this chapter what feels like a million times and I'm still not completely happy with it but I hope you all enjoy it, regardless! It doesn't pick up where the last one left but it includes stuff from the last chapter and a couple of missing scenes.**

 **Sorry for the long wait though, real life caught up and I've been really busy. The next update will be a week on Sunday, I think and after that they updates will be scheduled for every Sunday:)**

 **Leave a review if you feel up to it, please!**

 **\- Shauna! xo**

* * *

Emma sighed deeply as she tried to soften her rigid spine, willing her bones to relax in the black, leather seat but it, of course, was to no avail. She was quite sure her posture was permanently stuck like this. But, she was okay with that. Rigid and tough she could handle.

Feelings on the other hand? Not so much.

The captain's voice rung out, loud and clear, as he instructed the different detectives on what their next plan of action should be (and you could bet they were specific too). Apparently, the first culprit was in the navy or had been a few years back so the advice was to tread lightly.

Her cheeks burned as she felt a pair of insistent eyes following her around the room, almost blazing a hole into the side of her head (at least that's what it felt like). On Graham's brief pause, she heard a very loud, dramatic sigh and she didn't even need to look to figure out who was the culprit. Emma would even bet that it was followed by the grinding of his teeth as his jaw ticked.

She couldn't look though, not now because she knew if she caught his gaze, she'd be lost to him completely and never look away.

She directed her attention towards Graham who was talking, waving his hands enthusiastically and she tried to pay attention. She really did. But, if you asked her, she couldn't really tell you what half of his rant was about. Much, anyway. It was really just a debrief (her presence wasn't even required) on what they had already found out in the investigation (which wasn't much at all, they still had a long way to go and she was nothing but determined to find this killer rapist now).

Graham's last few words of "You are all dismissed" cut through her reverie and she managed to drag her legs across the marble flooring slowly, blindly reaching for the door handle and catching herself just before she went stumbling over the ridge that separated the room from the hallway.

What? She had a lot on her mind right now. Most of which included getting out of that room as fast as she was physically able.

 _"Stop."_

 _The body that had previously moved so sinfully against her froze, lips pressing into a thin line against the soft skin of her neck and fingers gradually losing their bruising hold on her hips as his fingernails retracted from digging into her skin pleasurably._

 _When she finally willed her eyes to open, he was there directly in her field of vision. Surrounding her completely, all consuming as his blue eyes glistened down at her, still darkened with lust. They were intense but so soft as his forehead wrinkled slightly, peering down at her._

 _Killian's tongue swiped across his bottom lip as he opened and shut his mouth, clearly hesitating on what he really wanted to say before shaking his head slightly._

 _All of a sudden, everything abruptly became awkward. The lust, the adrenaline that was previously coursing through both of their veins almost evaporated as the two of them stood opposite each other, neither knowing what to say or rather how to begin._

 _So Emma Swan did what she did best, she ran. Quite literally for once too. And she didn't stop until she no longer heard the sound of heavy footsteps pounding after her or the sound of his desperate calls of her name._

"You okay?" it was August now, the words pressed against her ear as he manouvered the two of them out of the wave of bodies rushing out of the building.

Work always was hectic on a Friday evening.

"Never better," she lied between gritted teeth, though she's not entirely sure why she bothered.

August could see through her. He always could.

She heard a deep sigh before she was propelled to a stop with her friend's concerned eyes staring back at her. Emma wasn't sure what he was looking for as his eyes scanned a face but he sighed once more, stance relaxing slightly and a wide grin passing over his lips.

"Fancy a drink?"

She allowed herself a small smile, "I thought you'd never ask."

 **XXX**

"So you just ran?" he exclaimed, loud voice rang out next to her (dramatic to the end, that one).

Emma merely shot her friend an unamused look, eyes narrowing into slits as her lips pressed tightly into a thin line, "Whose side are you on here?"

"The one which results in your happiness," was his immediate reply to which she rolled her eyes at.

"I am happy," she grumbled.

August raised a thick eyebrow at her, "Clearly."

Her nose scrunched up as she downed the shot put in front of her two minutes previous by the very nice bartender, coughing at the strong taste. She never was a shot type of girl.

He mumbled something she didn't quite hear and she was quite positive it wasn't meant for her ears when he spluttered after she questioned it.

"Nothing."

"August," she almost whined, eyes widening purposefully as she stared up at him, bottom lip jutting out also-

-she knows him, flaws and all, and this was the best thing she could offer him (Emma Swan would in no way beg).

August sighed at her, shaking his head at his antics before coming clean, "I said I don't know why I'm surprised."

She startled at that, "Excuse me?"

"Remember our last trip to the bar?"

She glared. He knew she didn't remember much of it and that which she did remember she wasn't too keen on talking about.

"Because I do," he continued. "With startling clarity."

 _"I can't believe it," she almost moaned, head dropping to the bar with a quiet thud, fingers gripping onto the edge of the wood._

 _"Believe what, princess?" August grinned at her._

 _She paused momentarily in her pity, glaring at him, "You know I hate it when you call me that."_

 _"And yet I do it anyway."_

 _Emma still had a scowl on her face as he poured more tequila into their shot glasses though it lessened some when he pushed it towards her. Damn him for knowing her weaknesses._

 _And so that glass was knocked back in one. Then another. Then another. To the point where Emma wasn't sure just how many drinks she had thrown down her throat and she was feeling very heavily buzzed._

 _August was laughing though, shot glass slamming down onto the bar front with a loud bang, "So tell me what is bothering the princess tonight."_

 _"Not a what, a who," she admitted, her words slurring together._

 _"I think you mean a whom," he corrected her, ignoring the resulting sigh he got as a result (though, it did sound animalistic, almost reminiscent of a growl)._

 _"But tell me," he started, grin wearing off from his face as he leaned towards her, his face taking on that serious tint like it did whenever he was worried. "Has someone finally managed to break down the ice queen's walls?"_

 _"Please," she scoffed. "I don't care. Not even a tiny bit."_

 _Her eyes were suddenly focussed on the bar top as she watched, interestedly, as he poured another drink, "Clearly."_

 _And so it wasn't two shots later that the truth came piling out, the words spilling out from her lips as he poured them yet another drink (and she was pretty sure that the alcohol would never empty from that tequila bottle)._

 _"Why would I care that he's dating anyway? He could of just said it. We've been working on this case together and I thought, I don't know, we had developed some kind of respect for one another. Would it of hurt for him to just spend thirty seconds telling me that he's seeing someone?" the words were just piling out now, the frustration that had been eating up at her flaring up. "And, he flirts with me pretty much the entire time he's around. I don't think his girlfriend would be too happy about that!"_

 _"So he's on a date. With another woman?" August clarified after her little rant, tone exasperated._

 _"Yep."_

 _"And you're sat here with me because..." he trailed off._

 _"Because he's a free man. Perfectly capable to do what his heart desires. It's not like I have any hold over him," she sniffed, eyes looking everywhere but him._

 _"You don't really think that," he finally concluded after a long, stretching silence._

 _She hissed at him, eyes violent as the storm swirled inside her dark blues, "Don't I?"_

 _"No," he told her, calmly, and his tone juxtaposed hers so much that she suddenly wanted to cry and-_

 _-why did she drink again? It always lead to deep, meaningful conversations. Especially with August. She really should know better by now._

 _"You care about him," his tone was awed but she didn't care, her gaze focussed on the landscape painting at the very far end of the busy bar, the bright colours swirling together._

 _Outwardly, she snorted. Inwardly, however, she agreed with him on an intensity that scared her to the very pits of her soul. She did care about him. She cared about him a lot and that was why it hurt so much._

 _He sighed at her antics and pointed a finger towards her chest, eyes narrowing, "Don't even think about denying it."_

 _"I wasn-"_

 _"Yes, you were," he sighed. "Just admit it. Tell the truth. If not for me, then for yourself."_

 _"Yes," she sighed. "I care about him."_

"I'm not saying you have to go jumping into bed with him," August was telling her when she came to, voice too emotional for her liking. "But would it kill you to give the guy a chance?"

Her mouth opened to reply before he cut back in, "Yes, I know he sort of lead you on thinking he was completely single but you have been quite rude to him, Ems. Maybe he just didn't know what to think. And you never know, there may be some sort of explanation. You never did hear the guy out."

So, August wouldn't let her go home till he got her agree to hearing Killian out the next day and even insisted on writing his address down for her.

"Now, you don't have any excuses," he teased.

Emma had just rolled her eyes, resigning herself to tomorrow's fate.

 **XXX**

Emma closed the door of her bright yellow bug with a loud slam, not very happy with what she had to do now. It's not like she couldn't not do it now. She'd promised August as she'd danced out of the bar door with a grin on her face and a bottle of tequila tucked under her arm (she luckily did not suffer from a hangover this morning and was forever grateful).

Her back slouched against the closed door as she took a deep breath, eyes closing momentarily before snapping open with a ferocity that hadn't been there moments before.

Determined now, she marched up to the white door and rang the bell twice before taking a step back and waiting patiently (well, maybe not so patiently, she mused as her boots tapped repetitively against the pavement).

However, she was very shocked when the door opened to reveal a person peaking around the corner of it. It wasn't the person she expected at all.

It was a leggy brunette, dressed in a long dress shirt which she immediately recognized as Killian's from the previous day and she was giggling as she raked a hand through her curls, "Hi. Can I help you?"

Her mouth parted to reply before a very familiar chuckle was heard as the door fully opened, revealing a half naked Killian dressed in nothing more than his boxers.

His lips parted as he stared at her, eyes widening comically and in any other situation she would have laughed at the sheer disbelief on his face. At this moment, however, laughing was the last thing on her mind. He stepped forward, arm reached out as though he meant to grab her, "Emma-"

"No," her lips pressed together and maybe if they were squeezed tight enough together, she could stop the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. "No, you can't help me."

Then-

-she took off running, flashing around and stomping back to her vehicle, sliding in and immediately turning the key, taking off down the quiet street.

And if she heard the yells of her name, she ignored them until they could no longer be heard, speeding around the corner as tears finally leaked down her cheeks. The anger and hurt radiated from within her as she sobbed, her cries echoing out into the too bright sky.

That was until a loud crash screamed throughout her head, everything freezing in place as she came to an abrupt stop and then everything went dark.

* * *

 **And that is that. Please don't hate me?**


	5. Awake

**A/N: A new chapter (finally) so sorry for the longer than normal wait. Updates will be every Sunday now (I hope!) but I hope you all enjoy this one. Sorry that there isn't much emma and killian in this one but it's necessary for the story to progress.**

 **Leave me a review to let me know what you think!**

 **\- Shauna.**

* * *

A constant beeping noise echoes throughout the small room as two hands encase a slightly smaller one and grip it tightly between two palms, nails digging into the pale skin and leaving faint red, scratch marks over the soft skin.

Killian stared down at the girl in his arms. She just looked so fragile. Everything about her screamed breakable. Her blonde curls were dull, encasing her face in a messy halo almost as though it was aiming to protect her from the outside world. Though, there wasn't much left to protect her from. Her usually red lips were almost as pale as her skin, parted slightly and her eyes were shut, eyelids looking swollen as they glared a magnificent red. Her head was tilted sideways against the soft pillow with her long neck on display, little beads of sweat running down slowly.

Killian's eyes trace over her face as he counts inside his head. He counts the amount of scratches she has covering her otherwise flawless skin. The reality is that he loses track. Rage is soon taking over him as he spots the angry bruises scattered over her, which at the moment were quite faint. Give it another day or two and he knew they wouldn't be.

Who would dare do this to someone? To her? To his-to Emma?

He was actually thankful she wasn't awake quite yet, though the doctors had assured him she would be after his constant pestering-

- _"Mr Jones, again, I have told you that there is no change," the nurse told him, exasperated, (or maybe that was just him._

 _"But-", he started._

 _"There's nothing else to it," she cut in. "Emma should awake and until then we shall not know anything more."_

 _Emma's nurse was about five foot with long brown hair and dark, blue eyes and he could tell she was seconds away from snapping. Well, that makes two of them._

 _"Please," he breathed, leaning towards the nurse (she was quite pretty but she was no Emma)._

 _He looked up at from beneath his long lashes, lips twisting up into that crooked smirk he's so infamous for and blue eyes sparkling up at her as he bites his lip in what he hopes comes off as temptation._

 _"Please, can you tell me anything else?" he lets his voice take on that raspy tone that causes women to practically fall at his feet._

 _To his surprise, the young nurse merely laughs at him and reaches up to pat his cheek condescendingly, "That may have worked the first time but it won't again."_ -

At least she wasn't in any pain but he knew she would be soon. It was inevitable.

She was dressed in a hospital gown, the pale colors almost blending into her skin with a thin sheet thrown haphazardly over her body. Her right hand was resting over her ribs, her palm facing sideways and her fingers were loose as though they'd tried to grab for something... before. His hands were still clenching her left one as it laid by her side and her fingernails were painted this dark blue-black color.

Fragile. At this moment, that was the only word to describe Emma Swan.

She looked like a shell of the person she used to be. As though, she'd just fail at a moment's notice and he couldn't help but think that he'd put her in here. That she was laying helpless, like a victim, because of him. Because she ran from him. If he'd just answered the door himself, instead of pestering Ruby to do so he could have saved her all this pain. She could be okay.

That was until a hand gripped onto his, tightly, with such low strength and fingernails digging softly into his callous hand before releasing it almost immediately, that he thought he'd dreamt the whole thing if it wasn't for the way his fingers flexed afterwards, almost subconsciously.

It was almost sad. The little strength she currently possessed. Before, he always did say she had a kung foo grip-

- _"Jesus, christ, Swan!"_

 _"That didn't hurt. Grow a pair, Jones!" Emma huffed at him as she dodged another of his punches with a shocked look on her face._

 _He grinned, please at having caught her off guard before raising an eyebrow at her as she aims, fist swinging forward (clearly aiming for his face). Ignoring her scoff as he catches her small fist in his large hand, his grin widens, pearly whites gleaming as his mouth parts._

 _"Wasn't aware you could feel my pain now, darling," he comments, leaning forward with their hands still clasped together._

 _"Don't call me that," she manages to hiss out, though somewhat breathless, stuttering slightly as his face grows closer to hers, his eyes flickering between her eyes and lips and grinning further at the audible breath she takes._

 _His pleasure at her reaction is evident on his face as a crooked smirk takes over, his left dimple protruding. He briefly considers making a crude remark but eventually decides against it. He doesn't want to anger her, especially when she's been so kind towards him today (well, as nice as Emma ever gets)._

 _"Anyone ever tell you that you have a mean right hook, Emma?" he emphasises her name, drawing out the syllables carefully and trying to please her though he never moves further away from her._

 _"Can't say they have."_

 _"Well, they should," he tells her. "And I'm quite certain you have a kung foo grip, too."_

 _She laughs at that and finally detaching herself from him, visually shaking her head as though she needs to remind herself how to breathe (the sight of her breathless stirring something inside of him, something primal). Her eyes are green and sparkling as they shine up at him, the soft grin rare as it pulls up at the edges of her bright lips._

 _(Well, he'd been lying if he said it didn't cause his heart to pump in his chest, something tightening at the thousand watt smile she throws his way.)_

 _He barely catches the next words that she speaks, too distracted by the sight of her chest as it heaves with every breath she takes. Their fight has clearly knocked it out of her._

 _"I guess you just can't handle it," her voice is lilting as she teases him._

 _Her hand is swift as she aims for another punch (and he barely catches it before it hits him square in the nose). A noise bubbles out of his throat which he isn't quite sure what it's meant to be before he ducks, causing her to almost tumbling into the pale wall. Her hand reaches out to stop herself with a heavy slam and she rolls her eyes as she catches his deep chuckle._

 _"Perhaps you're the one who couldn't handle it."_ -

He gasps as the fingers tighten around his once more, successfully dragging him out of his reverie. Remaining focussed on her face, he is sorely disappointed at the lack of life he finds there and he can practically feel his heart racing in his chest as it struggles to keep up with his emotions. His eyes are frantic as they drag over her entire form, rapidly scanning her silhouette for any movement.

When his eyes flicker up to her face, however, her jade eyes are open and staring back at him, open and innocent and they look so goddamn confused as they follow him. Her mouth parts as though to speak but no sound comes out and her lips twist downward at the action. Immediately afterwards, she outwardly winces as the small action causes her pain. He bets it does too. Her face is covered in bruises and scratches, especially her swollen lips.

His own mouth parts as though to reassure her-

- _Do you need anything? Are you okay? How do you feel?_ -

-but words fail him as he stares back at her, mouth slack as his eyes are intense on hers.

He feels pressure on his hand and he looks down to find her fingers fumbling next to his, intent on entwining their fingers together. Making it easier for her, he slots their two hands together and gasping at the coldness of her long, pale fingers.

"Emma," he stutters out, mouth parting on a gasp that sounds half strangled.

 **XXX**

 _"You're an idiot, you know that," Ruby tells him the moment the door slammed shut, him almost blowing it off of its hinges in his anger._

 _He blatantly ignores her as he barges past her, shoulder bumping into her and storming into the kitchen. Rummaging through the black cupboard above the oven, he finally finds what he's looking for and slams the bottle down on the marble counter. Turning around to collect a glass from the bottom cupboard, he frowns when the bottle has disappeared from his sight as he looks up and into the very hands of his new houseguest._

 _"Ruby," he almost whines, voice needy._

 _She looks at him pitifully, head shaking as she laughs quietly, "Not a chance, Jones. You're not going to drink yourself into a coma, not tonight."_

 _He sighs, shaking his head, "Then what am I going to do?"_

 _"First, you are going upstairs to take a shower because you stink," she wrinkles her nose at him in reply._

 _Snorting, he tells her, "And you have the nose of a bloodhound."_

 _"You say that like it's a bad thing," her tone is almost innocent as she widens her eyes at him with a smirk edging up at the corners of her bright red lips._

 _He merely shakes his head at her._

 _"Seriously, though," she insists. "You are going to take a shower and then you're going to go after that-"_

 _"-Emma," he buts in._

 _"Fine. Then you're going to go after Emma and apologize."_

 _His forehead crumples slightly at that, eyes zeroing in on her, "Apologize?"_

 _Ruby groans at him, hand slapping her forehead in a facepalm, "You really are clueless about women, aren't you?"_

 _"Now, I wouldn't say-", he began, trying to defend himself but Ruby cut him off rather quickly._

 _"I opened the door in a baggy shirt. You're baggy shirt, to be exact. It's quite comfy and no, you're not getting it back," she insists at his exasperated expression as he looks as though he's about to but in. "What is a girl supposed to think?"_

 _"You-you think.. she?" he stutters it out as Ruby looks at him as though to say, aw bless your little heart._

 _Crossing her arms across her chest, her sharp eyes focus on him as she sighs. Her foot is now tapping on the flooring, irritatingly, as she stares him down. Ugh. He hated it when she did that._

 _"She ran away from this place like she was on fire and you're just now figuring that out?" she exclaims in a loud, high pitched voice with her tone exasperated. "And," she continues. "If the look on her face was any indication, I'd be willing to bet that she's been pining for you as much as you have been for her."_

 _Ruby glances over his form, eyes pausing on his hair, dishevelled from running his hands through it continuously and his dull eyes, "Well, maybe not quite as much."_

 _"You think she cares for me?" he asks her because god knows, he's cared for her longer than he can remember if only she believed he was genuine._

 _"Duh," she shoots him a disbelieving look as though the answer should be obvious and in all honesty, it probably was._

 _He scowls at her comment but aquitises to her demands, sighing as he reaches the stairs because, well, the sooner he gets out of the shower the sooner he gets to explain himself to Emma. And he wanted to explain himself to her because he knew what would be going through her mind. She was a distrustful person, his Swan-_

 _-and god if she ever heard the possessive note in his voice she'd probably kill him herself._

 _However, he does have to admit that jealousy is a good color on her. With the way she closes herself off more often than not, it's nice to know she actually cares (and he knows she does, it's plastered all over her face when she thinks he isn't looking). If all goes well later with her (and boy is he hoping that it will), he hopes to finally get that date he's been pining for (and Ruby is right, he has been after her for far too long) since he'd first laid eyes on her. He's barely stepped a foot into the shower when a loud bang on his door directs his attention._

 _Sighing, he calls out, "What is it, Ruby? Kind of busy here."_

 _Ruby's voice has a strange note of something he can't quite call as she shouts back to him, "Can you let me in? It's kind of important."_

 _A blue towel is wrapped around his waist before he opens the door, "What is it?"_

 _"It's Emma," she tells him, voice serious. "She's in the hospital."_

 _The rest of what she tells him is a blur as he almost feels the flooring disappear underneath his feet, hand coming up to hold himself against the door, heavily. Something about a car and an accident, she tells him and that's when it registers with him-_

 _-she was in an accident trying to speed away from here. Away from him-_

 _"Killian," Ruby's soft voice interrupts him, tone so full of understanding and pity that he suddenly just wants to scream. "We have to go."_

 _So he does. He slings a pair of dark jeans on hazardly along with a dark shirt and his leather jacket. Not long after, he feels Ruby dragging him along to the car, demanding that she drives because he wasn't in a fit state to do anything. And she was probably right. He doesn't feel fit. He simply feels... lost and it's that feeling of loss that tugs at him, at his heartstrings because it wasn't possible. She had to be okay. She just had to be because he didn't know what he would do otherwise. He didn't want to ever find out._


	6. Invitations And Reassurances

**I just have no excuses for this. I'm a terrible, awful person for taking this long to update but without further ado, here is the next chapter. We're actually not thaaat far from the end now. I never really intended it to be that long, may end at about twelve chapters? So I guess we're about half way.**

 **Leave a review to let me know your thoughts if you feel up to it!**

 **\- Shauna! xo**

* * *

Killian leaned heavily back into the hospital chair, the plastic underneath him uncomfortable as he shifted, eyes glaring a hole into the dark door that led to where Emma was current laying. **  
**

She'd barely woken up, eyes so open and confused as they stared back at him while she coughed slightly when a rush of doctors came piling in, demanding he wait outside while they did their job. Begrudgingly, he did, seeing as Emma needed their attention. Didn't mean he was happy about it.

Now, he was sat here with his knee bouncing repetitively as his fingers curl up into a fist, breaths coming out deeply as he tries to remember how to breathe. He tips his head back as he pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing loudly.

Graham would probably be here soon too-

- _"What do you mean she's in the hospital?" the loud yell was directed straight into Killian's ear as he held the phone slightly away from him._

 _"What do you think it means? She's in the bloody hospital," he snapped back, patience rapidly disappearing._

 _There's silence before Graham's voice sounds out again, much softer this time, "Is she... okay?"_

 _"She's unconscious at the moment. Doctor says she should be waking at any moment."_

 _He hears the frown in the Captain's voice as he asks his next question, "What happened?"_

 _"I wish I knew," Killian huffs out, suddenly feeling exhausted beyond belief._

 _"What do you know then?_

 _"She came by to see me and then she... left. The next thing I know I'm getting a phone call to say that she's in the hospital," he tells him, voice shaking as he curls his fingers up into a fist on his free hand._

 _There's silence again before Graham pipes up, "I'll be there shortly."_

 _The dialling tone is welcome as he hangs up.-_

"Mr Jones?" a loud voice questioned.

When he looked up, there was a nurse with dark hair looking down at him sympathetically.

"Yes?" he gulped.

She smiled reassuringly, "You may see her now."

He nodded as she walked away, still smiling softly.

He'd just stood up when Ruby came waltzing in.

"Hey," she greeted him. "There were all out of coke so I got you-"

"I don't care," he interrupted her.

She raised an eyebrow in response.

"Emma's awake."

"Oh, that's great!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands happily before her face scrunched up into confusion. "Then why are you still here talking to me?"

His eyes paused on her face before shaking it off and giving her a soft smile, "No reason at all."

Marching through the double doors that lead to the corridor that lead Emma's room, he hesitated briefly before pushing the heavy door open that led to her.

She was laying there, helpless and vulnerable when his eyes finally caught her silhouette. Her green eyes were wide and open as they stared up at the ceiling and her skin was a ghostly pale, though it was as flawless as ever. Her blonde curls were dull and her nails had darkened considerably. She just looked so very vulnerable. He'd seen her before she'd woken up, of course, but he didn't think she looked this bad before. Cuts and bruises were covering her entire form and her lips were swollen though he was pleased to note that some color had returned to them and that they were no longer blue.

"Emma," he choked out.

Her head snapped in his direction and their eyes caught for a second before she turned back again, outwardly wincing. The action had clearly caused her pain.

He hesitated, taking a few steps forward and sitting down in the chair beside the hospital bed. Leaning forward in the chair, he rested his hand next to hers with his knuckles brushing over her cold skin.

"How are you feeling?" Killian asked her, eyes looking for any flicker of emotion that would pass over her face.

"Fine," she bit out, tone raspy and quiet though it was obvious the words were supposed to be harsh and unforgiving.

"Good. That's good," he muttered.

He slowly ran his thumb across the pale skin of her knuckles, knowing she felt it when her entire form stiffened and her lips thinned out into a firm line, pressed tightly together. He sighed in response as he leaned forward and trying to catch her beautiful jade eyes, "Emma-"

"Hey, Kil. Doctor said she wants to talk to you, not sure what about- oh, sorry. Am I interrupted?" Ruby cut herself off hastily after her rather rude interruption.

Killian growled under his breath before slowly standing up, his eyes flickering back down to Emma.

"I'll just," he motioned to go though his eyes remained on Emma, concern flickering through his bright blues.

"I'll stay until you get back," Ruby told him, smiling up at him sympathetically.

He still hesitated, looking back down at Emma in her vulnerable state before nodding. He let his fingertips trace over her pale, cold fingers once more.

"I'll be back soon," he promised.

As he marched through the door, he thought he heard her mutter, "Don't rush."

He frowned but didn't look back.

 **XXX**

When he returns back, Emma's staring rigidly up at the ceiling whilst ruby is smiling at him, though it's slight as he walks through the door.

She's quick to make herself scarce, standing and marching up to him immediately.

"I'll see you at yours," she tells him quickly, briefly bringing her arms around him for a hug before shooting him a reassuring smile. "Call me if you need anything."

He nods once to show his understanding though his eyes are on anything but her, dead set on the fragile blonde in front of him. Emma, however seems to be determined on looking anywhere but him.

He almost winces as the door slams shut behind Ruby, silence overtaking the hospital room.

"Do you need anything?" he asks her hastily, watching her wince as she tries to maneuver onto her back with little success, wriggling as that puts pressure on her ribs. "I can get you some water," he offers.

"No, thank you," her lips are pressed tightly together and although her tone is softer than before, there's still a harsh note somewhere in there.

He'd like to blame it on the trauma, but she's probably just irritated with him, not that he blames her.

This time when he takes a seat into the hard chair besides he hospital bed, she doesn't complain, not even as he rests his palm lightly over hers. His fingers trail softly down as though trying to reassure himself that she was here, that she was okay.

She lets out a sigh and it's almost content, that he cracks a small smile himself (the first once since he'd heard about her).

"Graham's on his way," he tells her, knowing she hates to be fonded over but knowing it was inevitable. "I presume that means August is too."

She groans out loud, the sound weak and strangled. It's that what pains him, what reminds him of her current condition.

"Great," she mutters.

"So," he begins. "What happene-"

"I'm not talking about it," her tone is harsh and unforgiving as she cuts him off, eyes staring blankly but determinedly ahead.

"Okay," he says slowly. "But you're going to have to talk to someone about it, Emma."

"No," she says. "No," she repeats.

He sighs and tightens his fingers over her hand for a brief second before releasing. He feels powerless in that moment, can feel her sorrow and hurt washing over him as her hard eyes stare at a spot in the ceiling but knowing he can't do anything about it and also knowing that she hates to be told what to do (he knows that better than anyone).

"Fine," he sighs. "But the doctors are going to be asking you questions and the police still want you to file out a report..." He trails off, noticing the way her fingers clench into a shaky fist and the way her breathing seems to shallow until her eyelids are fluttering, lips paleing.

He's quick to jump in, eyes flashing in alarm as he entwines their fingers, other hand coming up to push her curls behind her ear and feeling her sweaty, flushed skin.

"Breathe, Emma," he reminds her, willing her to be okay. "Just focus on the sound of my voice, okay?"

He's relieved to note that she nods, though it's somewhat stiffly as fear passes through her pupils, eyes wide.

"Here," he says hastily when it's clear it isn't working. "Listen to the feel of my heartbeats, try to clear your mind," he tells her, bringing her palm to rest on his chest, just where his heart lays.

His blue eyes bore into her green ones as her breathing begins to return to normal, the flesh of human blood returning to her cheeks.

"Thank you," she manages to gasp out when she's okay, eyelids fluttering with exhaustion.

"Sleep," he tells her, giving her a sad smile as he caresses her cheek with the back of his hand, tracing his fingers down her face. "I'll still be here when you wake up," he assures her, smiling as her eyes soften, landing on his once more before they close completely.

Soon, the peaceful sound of Emma breathing overtakes the room and he sighs, sitting back and feeling content to watch her dream, knowing she's okay for a little while longer.

 **XXX**

He visits Emma quite regularly over the duration of the next week, barely leaving her alone (just to collect his clothes and going as far to collect some of hers-

- _She's staring up at him in awe, mouth opening slightly._

 _He chuckles nervously, hand coming up to scratch behind his ear as he shrugs. "I just thought that you might want something of your own, I figured you might be missing-"_

 _She smiles at him as she cuts him off, hand reaching to his._

 _"Thank you, Killian."_

 _The smile she sends him almost sends him breathless so he manages a small one back.-_

-Over the course of that week, Graham's inevitable presence comes, much to his own delight and Emma's annoyance and irritation. The way her nose scrunches up when she's been fallen over never ceases to bring a smile to his face.

He promises to get to the end of the investigation, practically banishing Emma from working on the case-

- _"We don't even know if the two things are remotely related, Emma," Graham insists to a put out Emma. "Just let me see if they are and then we'll talk. Your safety means more to me than winning some case," he professes._

 _And we'll, she doesn't have many complaints after that._

 _Though, in all honesty he's very relieved to know that she'll be safe with the amount of protection that is circling the hospital.-_

-August merely hugs her, leaving balloons and a get well card with an order that his best drinking buddy be in best form soon.

(That also relieves him that she laughs at the comment, returning the hug carefully as she smile at him from the other man's shoulder).

He must have fallen asleep because when he wakes it's because of some rustling about in the room. He jumps up, frowning as he takes in the sight before him.

The nurse who is attending to Emma is laughing at his puzzled face and Emma even cracks a smile at him, even goes as far as to tease him.

"Finally awake, sleeping beauty?" And wait, was she flirting with him?

It wouldn't surprise him, honestly. Emma never did react the way he thought she would or the way anybody else did. It was one of the things he liked most about her.

He lets out a short laugh, running a hand through his messy, dark locks as he sits properly, leaning forward as the nurse takes Emma's blood pressure and various other things.

"It's a routine checkup," she insists.

When she's finished, she's smiling slightly.

"Well, Emma, there's some good news for you," the nurse tells her.

"I can go home?" Emma visually perks up at the concept

"Soon," the nurse laughs. "Although there is a condition or two."

Emma frowns in response and she's not the only one (he suspects he's just too attuned to her emotions by this point.)

"We request," the nurse emphasises the word as though it's more of demand and it probably was, he wasn't the only one to know of Emma's stubbornness. "That you stay with someone who can help you along for a few weeks, so to speak."

Emma's eyes almost darken at that. "I don't need anyone to-"

"She can stay with me."

He doesn't even realise it's him who's spoken until the two of them are staring at him, Emma with something unreadable flashing over her face and the nurse with gratefulness over hers.

"That would be wonderful," the nurse chirps before dancing gracefully out of the room.

He suspects Emma is ready to argue but to his surprise she merely nods once. "Okay."


	7. Home Time

**I've had writer's block for what feels like forever but I'm back! Would you believe this has been sat in my drafts since two days after the last chapter? I just had so many issues with a few scenes that I couldn't bring myself to write. I've rewrote this more times than sense and even though I'm not fully happy with it, I hope you all enjoy it!**

 **\- Shauna! xo**

* * *

 _"You mean a lot to him."_

 _The words shock her, head twisting around sharply and immediately wincing at the pain that floats through her._

 _She hears a lilted laugh as a pair of brown eyes stare back at her with sympathy, a small smile edging around the brunette's red lips. Said brunette shakes her head slightly, amusement coloring her features. "Honestly, you can't be surprised."_

 _Emma raises an eyebrow, one of the only movements that doesn't cause massive amounts of pain._

 _"He talks about you alot, you know," the brunette continues, her voice barely above a murmur, "Especially as of late. You're name hadn't popped up for a few months up until the previous one."_

 _"Probably because he hasn't seen me as of late," she mutters, her voice scratchy._

 _She gets another sympathetic look from the brunette as she comes forward to stop at the foot of her bed, smiling at something over Emma's shoulder before focussing down on the blonde._

 _"Maybe you should both talk about that," she suggests._

 _Emma would shrug but she's aware of how painful that movement would be so she settles for pressing her lips firmly together, which painful, but not quite as painful as moving with little effort required._

 _"I'm only here for a few days," the girl tells her suddenly, eyebrows pressing together as she stares down with a calculated look in her eyes, "I just wanted to see my brother."_

 _Brother?_

 _She hears twinkling laughter and the girl - Killian's sister, or so she's told - head is thrown back before she's shaking her head once more._

 _"Yes," she tells her. "Killian's my brother."_

 _Did she say that out loud?_

 _Emma's eyebrows push together in confusion, mouth parting on a question and honestly she isn't quite sure what that question is. Killian had a sister?_

 _"My name's Ruby," she tells her, smiling, "And it's a pleasure to meet the Emma Swan who I've heard so much about."_

 _"I-"_

 _"Thought that I was some ex-girlfriend showing up to rock the boat abit?" Ruby interrupts, a knowing look on her face._

 _Emma manages a barely there nod._

 _"Yeah," she trails off, "I did try to tell him but, you know, Killian. He's not exactly the brightest of the bunch when a woman's concerned."_

 _She laughs at that, a low, breathless sound that gets stuck in the back of her throat and nods gratefully when Ruby offers her a glass of water, a straw at the ready._

 _"Thanks," she mumbles._

 _Ruby smiles, "Don't worry about it."_

 _She allows herself a small smile back before flinching her head in the opposite direction as she hears the door slam open once more, Killian's heavy footsteps echoing._

 _Her lips press firmly together and she can feel Ruby's frown on her head before her head snaps forward to her brothers._

 _She briefly hears Ruby shoot him a quiet, "I'll see you at yours," before the door is shutting once more._

 _And then she's left alone with him._

 _(She might not despise the thought as much as she had.)_

 **XXX**

Moving hurts like hell is the first thing Emma decides as she grits her teeth, the door of Killian's SUV slamming shut behind him as he jogs around to the driver's side. His door slams shut behind him and he places the keys in the ignition, turning the key as the engine vibrates and she winces, unprepared for the movement as it joltses her ribs.

"Okay?" he asks.

"Fine," she tells him through a fake smile, biting her lip to mask the pain.

He frowns. "No, you're not."

She sighs loudly, "Really, no, but it's not exactly going to get any better so if you could get us there as quick as possible, that would great."

He shoots her a small smile, nodding, and then they're off.

There's a lot of traffic lights, a lot of start and stops which makes her grit her teeth, fingernails digging into her knees as she sags against the window and she's quite sure Killian's doing worse than her.

His blue eyes keep flickering from the road and back to her, focussing intently as he gauges her reactions.

She grits her teeth, "Eyes on the road."

He laughs, a free and light sound that she can't help but smile at even now.

"Yes, ma'am."

She wants to shake her head at how much of an idiot he is but eventually decides against it, fully of aware of how much that particular movement still hurts.

It feels like it's been forever when Killian finally pulls up outside his house and cuts off the engine before he twists around to her, shooting her a sly smile as his tongue runs sinfully along his bottom lip and she feels hit stirring in her lower belly, even when she feels this worse for wear.

He was attractive, after all, there was no denying that.

"Ready?" he asks her quietly, tone hushed.

He holds a hand out to her as his teeth bite into his bottom lip, eyes shining up at her.

She sighs softly and with some difficulty, places her hand into his.

"Yeah," she tells him with a soft nod, "I'm ready."

His fingers tighten around hers in response before he releases her before he jumps out of his car with a dramatic move that she can't help but roll her eyes at before he appears to her side, opening the passenger door for her.

He leans forward with a peaceful smile, unbuckling her seatbelt carefully and she's very thankful that he pulls it away from her skin lightly.

He leans back slightly, a contemplating look on his features as he stares down at her.

"This will probably be uncomfortable..."

She snorts at the understatement, knowing how much moving damn well hurt.

"Just get it over with," she tells him tightly, lips pressed firmly together as she grinds her teeth.

"Hold onto me," he requests, leaning forward.

She agrees, fingers clenching around the lapels of his jacket and with a lot of moaning and groaning on her part, he manages to maneuver her in his arms, trying his best not to jostle her as he walks to the entrance of his house.

(She finds she doesn't want to let go. Not ever.)

(And from the look on his face, she knows that he doesn't want her to either.)

(At least, she hopes he doesn't. Because she thinks she's falling for him. Hard.)

 **XXX**

When her eyes flicker open next, she frowns as she realises she's alone. But in a rather, very comfortable bed.

The red, silk sheets beneath her feel like heaven on her skin and the fluffy, blue duvet decorated with anchors (and god, it was so Killian) was pulled up firmly to her chin and tucked into her sides.

(She smiles when she realises Killian must have put her to bed.)

(His bed, she'd be willing to bet.)

She lets herself glance around the room, eyes darting to the desk in the corner - old fashioned, neatly kept with a stack of papers placed horizontally and a stack of black pens all facing downwards at the edge. His curtains are blue too, the gradient texture making it look like waves of the ocean - she'd forgot about his obsession with the sea.

She briefly remembers him telling her about his boat-

- _"You own a boat?"_

 _She was skeptical and she really couldn't help it._

 _Killian was the last person she'd imagine to have his own boat._

 _He playfully glares._

 _"Ship," he corrects her, "She's a ship, love."_

 _She laughs at that lowly, "She?"_

 _He huffs and turns his startling blue eyes onto her._

 _"She's a marvel," he tells her and she smiles at the passion she sees radiating off him because she's never seem him this way before (not really). "And ships are always referred to as a she."_

 _She laughs, shaking her head._

 _"Noted."_

 _They'd taken a small break and decided to go get a coffee or two from starbucks (though, Emma was quite sure she was on her fifth cup in the last hour, woops). Who would've thought analysing victims and their families reports would be so draining? And there's only so many times you can look at the same report before your mind goes blank._

 _So here they were._

 _"I'll take you," he suddenly decides and when she looks up, his blue eyes are fixed on her._

 _"What?"_

 _"To my ship," he tells her, grinning that goofy smile._

 _She hums, whether in agreement or waving him off, she's not quite sure but Killian seems to take it as a challenge._

 _"Well one day," he sighs lightly. "One day, I will."_

 _She shoots him a small smile and nods slightly._

 _"I'll take you up on that."_

 _"Oh, I'll definitely take you up on something, darling."_

 _And we're back, she thinks and sighs out loud, ignoring the smug grin on his face because he couldn't be Killian Jones if he could go an hour without a flying innuendo._

 _(Not that she secretly loves it.)_

 _(She'd never admit that.)-_

-"Swan?"

Her head shoots up, startled, and she groans bringing a hand up to rub her neck.

(She was really starting to get sick of every little move hurting.)

Killian suddenly appears in her line of vision, his concerned eyes staring down at her as he comes to a stop at the side of her - his - bed and his eyebrows scrunch together, his lips pulling down into a frown.

"Sorry, love," he tells her sheepishly and his hand comes up to rub that spot behind his ear.

"Didn't mean to startle you."

"Yeah, well, mission not accomplished," she huffs.

He grins and her lips lift up in reply.

"Do you need anything?" he suddenly questions, voice frantic, "I'm sorry if you called. I was downstairs but if you need anything - anything at all - I swear, I'll get it. Maybe we should get you a bell, I did promise to take care of you-"

She barely restrains a giggle at him and tries to interrupt.

"Killian-"

"-and I'm not doing a very good job so far but- Are you hungry? I can order some food or-"

"Killian."

It's louder this time and he seems to take notice because his lips freeze mid sentence and he glances down at her.

"I'm fine," she promises and though it hurts, she reaches up to pat his cheek, caressing his soft skin. "And you've taken better care of me than anyone else would," she reminds him, "And you didn't have to so thank you."

Her throat swells with emotion, voice tight with words unspoken and when his eyes soften, lips quirk up into a smile she knows he gets it. Knows he realises all of what she's not saying.

"It's my pleasure," he tells her. And then, because he's Killian Jones, he has to tack on, "Besides I'd never say no to having a lovely lady in my bed."

She groans at him and if she had the energy, she'd throw something at him. He knows it from the smug look on his face.

He stays stood, feet rooted to the spot.

She sighs and says, "Well, are you going to lay down?"

His eyes almost bulged from the sockets and it's all kinds of adorable.

"In bed?" The with you goes unspoken.

She snorts and scrunches up her nose, thankful the movement doesn't hurt.

"How else am I going to call on you at all hours?" she mocks, tone teasing.

He chuckles but shuffles around to remove his shoes and lays back against the pillows, arm curving around the top of the headboard and dangerously close to her shoulders. Instead of pushing him away like she usually would, she remembers August's words from the bar and instead snuggles closer, grimacing as pain shoots along her ribs, and rests her hand on his chest.

"Well," he says and he gets settled, "How am I to deny a fair maiden?"

She laughs but otherwise doesn't reply and she actually likes the quiet, eyes flickering to the television screen, but it can never really last long with the two of them.

"Once Upon A Time. Really, Swan?"

She huffs, "I like it."

He hums, obviously in disagreement.

Her head twists on his chest and she grins up at him, green eyes catching his blue ones.

"It has a devilishly handsome pirate and a saviour," she tells him. "What's not to like?"

"They'll never end up together," he tells her rather matter of factly.

She grins.

"We'll see."


	8. Nightmares

The next time he wakes up it's to an asleep Emma, splayed across his chest and her blonde curls arranged in disarray, tickling his skin. His lips pull up into a soft smile as he listens to her breathe, hand resting on the small of her back and tracing soothing circles (probably the only part of her that was injury free).

His lips curve as he twists slightly, head nestled against her curls and breathing in deeply, eyes fluttering closed as he lets himself bathe longer in the peaceful moment before Emma wakes up.

"Well, don't you two look cosy."

His head snaps up at the unexpected voice and he grimaces when he sees who it is.

"Ruby," he sighs and sits up slightly, though not too much as to ruse Emma.

His sister snorts, scrunching up her nose and sways her hips as she comes to a stop at the end of the bed.

"Don't sound too ecstatic to see me, will you, dear brother," she mocks him, tone teasing as her red lips curve up into a smile.

"Not at this particular moment," he mutters.

She grins, shaking her head and sighs, "I just wanted to say bye."

His forehead crumples.

What?

"I never was planning on staying long," she reminds him with a shrug, "Besides, you've got your hands plenty full here, brother."

He arches an eyebrow, "Got a better offer?"

She snorts, rolling her eyes, "Fishing for gossip?"

He shoots her a crooked grin that is an answer enough on its own.

"Fine. My boyfriend wants to see me. Happy?"

"Not exactly," he muttered. "You better make sure he treats you right, Rubes," he warns, "Or-"

"Please don't start on the big brother crap," she barely refrains from rolling her eyes.

"I just want you to be happy," he pleads.

"I am," she tells him firmly. "Besides, you have your own problems," she jerks her head towards Emma, "Without worrying about mine too.

He sighs but nods.

"And," she continues, eyes sharp on his as she points a finger to his chest, "Don't you dare mess it up. I actually like this one."

He laughs, shaking his head.

"I don't plan to," he promises.

He shuffles Emma slight, movements careful as to not to wake her as he leans forward to embrace Ruby in a hug, his one arm tight around his sister before she pulls away.

She smiles, then, "Good," before she dances out of the doorway with a wave. "Tell Emma I said bye."

He nods, giving her a soft smile, "Will do."

And because she's a Jones, she can't help but add-

-"Don't call within the next thirty hours. I'll probably be having sexual relations with my boyfriend."

His nose screws up, disgust and betrayal written all over his race as he sits up.

"Ruby!" he yells back, cursing at the musical giggles he receives as a response.

He feels Emma waking up at the noise and the unexpected movement.

(He really wasn't good at this taking care of other people thing.)

(But he was learning.)

(For her.)

(He'd be everything she needed him to be.)

(Because he was quite positive he was in love with her.)

 **XXX**

She's screaming.

She knows she's screaming but she can't help it.

(Any of it.)

She feels paralyzed, her body firmly pressed into the mattress but she feels so limp and weak simultaneously.

It's a strange feeling - she feels awake, as though she's not dreaming and it's all so real. She swears she's going through it all again - the crash and the sound of car brakes squeaking, the screams of pure agony, the blinding lights as she blinks back to consciousness.

(She remembers his face quite clearly.)

(Those sparkling blue eyes staring down at her in concern, the creases in his forehead smoothening and his lips pushing firmly together.)

She swears she hears his own scream mixed in with hears as she's on the berk on consciousness, his terrified eyes staring back at her and his hair poking up at all angles.

Still, she can't wake herself up.

She feels arms wrapping around her, shaking her, but still she feels paralyzed.

She can't respond.

The bright lights beneath her lids are blinding her as she lays lifeless in her car, the front bonnett bending backwards and cornering her legs, her head flinging sideways and smashing into the glass of the window, the sharp edges digging into her hair.

And there's just so much blood.

It's everywhere.

And finally.

Her eyes are wild, green and terrified as she gasps, jumping up in bed, barely catching on to that little bit of oxygen left.

She vaguely notices Killian's dark head in front of her, his eyes darting up to hers.

"Breathe," he's telling her, his own voice slightly panicked though it had an almost calm and peaceful erie to it, "Just breathe, love," he tells her and he almost looks relieved as his arms rub soothing circles down her back.

(It takes her a while to realise that she's gasping from the injuries she's just disturbed.)

"It's fine," he tells her when he realises also. "Just don't move."

She listens to him as he grips her hand tightly in his palm and brings it up to his chest, directly over his heart.

"You feel that?" he asks and she nods slightly, unable to form words and extremely winded. "Concentrate on that, to the regular beats of my heart."

She follows his instructions and little by little, her breathing gradually evens.

He sighs afterwards, and wraps his arm more firmly around her back so that she's mainly leaning on him, the energy drained from him.

"That's alright," he tells her, voice still soft. "You're alright. You'll be alright."

(She thinks he's trying to comfort himself.)

(The words repeated like a mantra.)

He manages to get her to relax back into the cushions, gritting her teeth when she joltses her ribs.

"Sorry," he gets out immediately.

(She tells him it's fine when she's all relaxed.)

(Because it is.)

(If she has him near to lean on.)

(Because she's really going to need him now - he's the one stable person in her life and she really needs him.)

 **XXX**

She falls asleep shortly afterwards though she tries to stay awake, peeling her eyes open as she glares at the television screen.

"You should sleep," he tells her softly.

She wants to shrug but decides against it.

"I'm not tired," she tells him flatly, tone firm.

"Yes, you are," he retorts.

Her head twists to the side and although painful, she bites out, "I'm not tired."

He sighs, head dropping.

"Emma-"

She presses her lips together, "I'm fine."

He snorts, "Clearly."

"I said I'm fine," she hisses, "So can you just drop it?"

(He does, shuffling away from her slightly as though not to startle her but realising she needs the space.)

(She swear that breaks her heart a little.)

She sighs heavily and reaches out to him, "Killian-"

He looks up to her, eyes wide and so blue and there was just so much hope swirling around in them that she suddenly just wanted to cry.

"I'm sorry," she tells him.

His mouth twists up into a half smile.

"You don't have to be sorry about anything," he tells her. "If you need anything - even space - all you have to do is say the word but Emma," he pauses, eyes turning ridiculously soft, "I'm not going anywhere and you can't make me."

(She softens inside and outwardly too, lips twisting upwards.)

"I know," she tells him and isn't that a testiment?-

-not just to how far they've come, but how far she's come-

-actually trusting someone not to leave her-

-and the lost little girl inside of her is screaming but she pays it no attention, instead smiles up at him.

"And I'm trying."

(She knows he'll get it.)

(Knows he'll realise that this isn't easy for her.)

He smiles and it's so full of joy despite everything that she can't help but grin back.

"You can sleep," he says softly. "I won't let anything hurt you - not even yourself," he promises. The I'm here with you is implied.

And so, she allows herself to drift off, snuggling into his warm embrace.

(She isn't so much as tortured by nightmares this time.)

(But she does see August's face, his concerned eyes staring down at her in the hospital.)

(If she could take his concern away, she would, because the two of them had been through so much together and she owed him, well, she owed him everything.)

(Especially since he's the main part of the reason she's tucked up in Killian's arms right now. She'd have to make sure she buys him a drink when everything is over.)


	9. Back To Work

**Trying to get back into the swing of updating semi-regularly so please, bare with me:) Not much Captain Swan in this but it's necessary for the story to move along. Hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

She returns to work a month later - not exactly, she's pretty much banished from field work (not that she exactly does much as a lawyer but still-). It was one of the conditions that Graham had set in order for her to return and you bet, was she eager to return.

Let's just put it this way. Emma and bed rest? Not exactly compatible.

(She almost feels sorry for Killian for having to deal with her.)

(Almost.)

She's still a little sore but it's mostly gone by now.

If there is field work that needs to be done, it's Killian who goes and she thinks she hates that the most - the way his eyes linger on her as though he's positive she'll disappear as he puts on a vest, a small smile playing around his lips.

(Although, maybe that was just her worry for him playing on her mind.)

He always says the same thing.

"I'll see you," he tells her, voice soft.

She smiles at him - well, she tries to, tries to loosen her jaw so that her lips will twist upwards but she knows it's in vain, knows it's not a good effort. She knows her eyes glisten every time he goes, knows they flicker over his face, trying to memorise every detail of his face.

(She knows he notices.)

(He pretends he doesn't.)

(They never talk about it.)

"Be careful," she tells him, voice tight with the emotions she's holding on.

He smiles as though he knows and she knows that he does.

He steps forward, hand reaching up to cradle her face and his hand curls around her sleek neck, thumb stroking her cheek softly.

"Always," he promises and then he repeats, "I'll see you."

He doesn't linger after that, just a twist of his lips as he entwines their fingers together, squeezes them one last time before he follows everybody else out of the door.

(She tries not to notice how his eyes harden when they catch eye contact one last time.)

(Tries not to notice when his smile falters as she turns sideways.)

(But she does.)

(And each time he leaves, it breaks her heart just that little bit more.)

She supposes they look like a couple - the way he caresses her cheek and how his lips press against her forehead softly in reply before he leaves with the rest of the detectives, that soft look he gets whenever she looks at him and she knows it's mutual - knows she gets that same, dopey eyed look on her face whenever their eyes meet.

But they're not dating.

Not now at least.

She can't deny that she wants it, however. She's much more open to the idea than she previously was, knows that he cares about her - god, he's showed it more times than she can count. But, she's still afraid. Afraid that he'll still leave her... after everything.

And that, right now, is one thing she can't take.

(She needs him.)

(More than he'll ever know.)

 **XXX**

She also tries not to notice how different everybody is around her, like they're all afraid that she's going to break.

(She's not.)

The first time she walks through those doors, Graham's waiting with his legs crossed, leant against her desk. August is sat down in his chair, that familiar grin of his curved up on his lips but she catches the concern flashing in his eyes, watches the way everyone's eyes follow her around the room.

(She tries to ignore it.)

(Try being the operative word.)

"We need to talk," Graham tells her stiffly as Killian steers her to her desk, his hand heavy on her waist and she completely ignores how August raises an eyebrow, grinning.

She raises an eyebrow.

"Okay?"

"My office," he commands, marching quickly away.

She sighs but goes to move when Killian presses harder on her waist and when she glances up at him, his eyebrows are furrowed and his staring down at her in concern, the blues in them shining.

(Adorable idiot.)

He licks his bottom lip, eyes narrowing slightly in concentration and she knows he's hesitating.

"Want me to come with you?" he asks quietly, lips barely moving.

She still doesn't quite know how he's hesitant after everything.

(But she never really gave him much indication for him to be otherwise.)

(Did she?)

"I'm fine," she tells him - promises - with what she hopes is a comforting smile.

He nods, drops his hand from her waist and his eyes flitter around the room.

"Killian," she sighs, moving to stand in front of him and reaches forward to place her hand onto his cheek until his blue eyes settle on her green jade ones once more. "Really," she insists, "I am."

"Okay," he sighs, leans forward to press a quick, chaste kiss to her cheek.

(Her skin tingles for moments after.)

She smiles at him, eyes dancing up at him.

"I'll be in my office if you need me," he swears, presses his lips to her cheek once more before gesturing with his hands to the captain's office. "Come on," he says, "I'll walk you up."

(She tries to deny it, knowing they're going in completely opposite directions.)

(But Killian's never one for that.)

He just grins up at her.

"No, I'm not," he murmurs.

(And damn, she really needs to learn to filter her mouth around him.)

"No, you don't," he tells her and she can hear the grin in his voice when he speaks, "I like knowing what you think, I like breaking past your walls and knowing that you trust me enough to tell me these things."

(She can't control her smile as he grins again, squeezes her waist once more before darting off to his office.)

(And damn her if she doesn't watch him walk, the way his ass looks in those tight, black trousers-)

"Stop eye sexing me up and get into your meeting, Swan," he barks out and of course he knew that she was staring at him.

She snorts.

"On it, Jones."

(She's still smiling when she walks into Graham's office.)

(And from the twinkle in his eyes, he knows it.)

 **XXX**

The meeting, however, that dampens her mood. Hugely.

"Emma," Graham sighs heavily, gestures for her to sit and waits until she does until he takes the seat behind the desk himself. "We need to talk."

"So you said."

He bites his lip, eyes narrowed as they scan over her face and she stares back at him, passive, and beyond curious about what he wants.

"Are you okay?" he asks softly.

(She barely restrains a growl at his tone.)

"I'm fine," she grits out between clenched teeth.

"You sure?"

She doesn't growl but she does sigh heavily, eyes sharp as they glare at him.

"I just-" he sighs, cutting himself off before continuing, "I'm just worried about you, Ems-"

(She feels herself soften at the nickname - a tactic he no doubt used on purpose.)

"-we all are," he continues, tone still soft as though he's afraid of spooking her. "Killian especially and although he informs me that you're doing well, I find myself doubting that."

(She knows the mention of Killian is suppose to rattle her - make her lash out - but she keeps her poker face.)

"Graham," she starts, sighing.

"I just want to know that you're okay," he finishes.

She raises an eyebrow, "I just told you I am."

He still hesitates slightly, lips curving up into a small smile that she knows is supposed to placate her.

"I know," he says. "But you're Emma, Emma Swan, and I know what you're like when it comes to being in denial."

"I'm not in denial," she snaps.

"Good," he retorts and reaches into his bottom draw, reaches for something and pulls a small, business card out onto the table. "Then I guess you won't mind me giving you this."

Her eyebrows furrow as she reaches forward, fingers brushing his as she collects it and she sits there in shock once she reads it.

"A shrink?" she practically screeches out. "You want me to see a fucking shrink?"

"Emma," he stands, face pleading. "I just think it will be a good idea."

She also stands, eyes narrowing into slits and glaring on at him in fury.

"No," she stands her ground, arms crossing over her chest firmly. "No," she repeats.

He stands back slightly, his fingers curling into a fist at his side.

"Emma," he says, voice ever softer now, "You're not just a worker here- I mean, you are, but I'd like to think we're more than that. I'd like to think we're all more than that. The lot of us - we're a team, friends even."

She raises an eyebrow and gestures for him to go on but otherwise doesn't speak, letting him know of her willingness to listen.

"Which is why," he pauses, "I won't apologise for doing what is necessary to keep you healthy - both mentally and physically."

"So what?" she scoffs, "A shrink is the answer? I should just go there and spill all my secrets? Give me some piece of mind?" she shakes her head.

"You won't be required to talk about anything but the accident and the... aftermath," he says hesitantly. "Anything else you wish to mention, well, that's all down to you, Emma."

She's still not convinced, eyes still hard on him.

"You're a lawyer, Emma," he reminds her as though she needs it, "I need to know that you're emotions are well in check and that you're in control of yourself."

"I am," she mutters, seemingly put out.

"Then prove it," he retorts. "Just a few sessions and she'll report back to me," he sees her about to cut in and shakes his head quickly, "Anything you say to her will be in confidence, I promise you that. The only thing she'll let me know is if she thinks you're truly ready to handle the work. Until, then, you'll be on desk duty. I'm sure Killian won't mind picking up the slack for a while."

She considers arguing, she does, but she knows Graham, knows him quite well by now to know that it's pointless.

"Fine," she mutters.

He must see the hesitation on her face because he adds, "Don't make me order you to go, Emma."

She nods, rigid and unmoving.

"I said I'd go, did I not?"

He smiles - a tentative one that has her giving him a softer one back no matter how angry she is.

"Besides, I need you to be cleared for what I have to tell you next."

She freezes, "And what is that?"

He just shakes his head, "Nice try but I'm not going to give you any added stress. Not right now. Go to a few sessions with Doctor Sullivan and we'll talk."

She sighs, shakes her head and marches away from his office, closing the door behind her.

(She didn't need a therapist.)

(She really didn't.)

(She was handling things just fine on her own.)

(Wasn't she?)

* * *

 **Thoughts? What do you think Graham is hiding? Stay tuned for the next one:)  
**

 **\- Shauna! xo**


	10. The New Normal

**Updates are going to be far in between for a while due to college and all that but I'm trying to get them up when I can, promise! Also, therapist sessions are coming from my obsession with Pretty Little Liars so don't judge my lack of knowledge.**

 **\- Shauna!xo**

* * *

She stays with Killian.

It's kind of an unspoken thing between the two of them, that she's staying with him indefinitely, and the smile that tugs up on his lips every morning when she turns over and he's staring back at her, tells her that it's a losing battle.

That he so badly wants to say something. But he doesn't.

And for that, she's very thankful.

But, he's still a pain in the ass. It just happens to be a rather marvellous ass.

(And damn him, he knows that.)

Killian even sorted out a draw for her and practically cleared half of his closet (and the snob, she was quite positive that he owned more clothes and better brand names than she did).

They still don't talk about it.

But the majority of her clothes end up at his house (including that ugly sweater that she saves for the Winter when she feels all the gloom and doom of the rainy days). That, however, he comments on.

His eyebrows quirk up, a mischievous smirk on his waiting lips.

She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest as she narrows her eyes.

"Don't start, Jones."

"What?" he shrugs innocently. "I was just going to say what a marvellous collection of fashion brands you carry, Swan."

Her eyes flicker to his at the serious note in his voice, the way his tone turns higher towards the end as though it should be a question. She bites her lip, hard, as she considers his words - considers the unspoken question.

He seems to see what she's getting at, eyes softening as he stares back and his lips part as though he wants to say something but she cuts in.

She snorts, a loud sound, and her eyes roll.

"You love it, Jones," she comments, turning around. "Don't deny it."

He still has her back when she hears him speak up again.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he murmurs.

(She tries not to let it affect it - tries not to let her heart flutter at the soft tone of his voice but she fails.)

(She fails miserably.)

-/-

August raises an eyebrow, his eyes calculating on them every time they arrive at work together.

But honestly, she can't quite bring herself to care.

(August always was a dramatic one, anyway.)

But the way Killian's fingers curl around hers, the familiar heat of him surrounding her as his side presses against hers and the way his fingers tighten ever so slightly, she can't quite bring herself to care.

(Not even at the incredulous look Graham sends their way.)

(But he has a knowing grin on his face like - like he knew about it all long which is absurd, all things considered but yeah, that's just Graham. Love him or hate him, all the same.)

Graham doesn't say anything to her again, which she's grateful for and it seems as though he hasn't told anybody - she isn't greeted by any of the sympathetic smiles and soft eyes that she thought she would be so she assumes it's all good.

It's bad enough she's practically been forced to see a shrink, the last thing she needs is to get the third degree by everyone else.

Well, except Killian.

And it's not like he interrogates her. He doesn't even ask if she's okay, not really. But his eyes will do this thing as they narrow at her, calculating and measuring before they relax again, a soft smile pulling at his lips as though he knows she's okay.

He probably does, the fact that she's an open book to him and all.

But, really, she doesn't mind.

It's sort of nice that he cares. It's nice that somebody finally cares.

And he's sort of an open book to her too.

(It's so much more than nice and she's quite sure she's half way in love with him.)

(Not that she'd ever consciously admit that.)

-/-

She still sleeps with him like she had when she first asked him to stay that night when she was tortured by nightmares. Not literally but... quite literally.

He's all soft and simultaneously hard pressed against her.

The curves of his chest pressed against her back, his hand curving around her waist as he tugs her back towards him, his breathing evening out against her neck as he sighs, succumbing to the darkness.

She curls her hand underneath his when she's sure his asleep, sighing as his fingers curl around hers, resting against her skin lightly.

One night she does that and she's positive she feels his lips curve up into a smile against the soft skin of her neck but he doesn't speak, just runs his thumb lightly over her knuckles and she shivers as he breathes heavily against her.

It sends her to sleep, the way his chest puffs against her back, the way his fingertips sneak up her tank top slightly until they rest on her bare stomach, tracing invisible patterns over her bare skin. It is sort of arousing, the feels of his rough, callous hands on her skin but she's also exhausted and his hands rest in safe places, the movements turning relaxing until her eyes close on a sigh.

She's halfway lost to the darkness when she hears him mutter, "And you wander why I love you."

But she's asleep in the next second so she's quite sure that she dreamt it.

Or did she?

-/-

Mornings are by far her favourite.

She's always the first to wake and she always wakes to a different position, mostly facing him instead of having her back to him. Killian grumbles and buries his head further in the pillows before he inches forward, his arms tightening her as he buries his head in her neck.

She finds it all shades of adorable and the way he huffs into her neck, the sound raising goosebumps, well, that certainly is adorable but it's something more.

But she still loves it.

When the alarm clock goes off, he's still grumbling, head nuzzling into her neck that he elicits a grumble.

And then he continues to complain about the loud sound she's making.

She huffs, eyes rolling.

"You're the one causing that noise," she tells him one morning.

She feels rather than sees the smirk edging up on his lips.

"Is that so, love?"

She barely manages to keep in the moan that is threatening to escape at the low tone of his voice in the morning, the way his accent thickens as his tongue curls around the syllables has her thighs clenching.

(Not that she'd ever admit that to him.)

Outwardly, she huffs, rolling her eyes.

"You know what I mean."

He chuckles, the sound vibrating into her skin and she actually does shiver this time.

"That I do, darling."

Could he at least attempt to not sound so smug? Was it seriously so much to ask?

"Yes," he tells her in a murmur and damn, she really needed a filter when it came to him!

When he shifts towards her, head pulling back from her as he rests along the pillow, eyes blinking sleepily up at her, his bottom half comes into contact with hers and now, she's the one with a smug grin on her lips.

"Well..."

He groans, head flinging back.

"Swan," he whines.

She laughs.

"You started it," she retorts.

He glares, albeit softly through his sleep fuelled haze.

"No," he says firmly, eyes doing a once over her form. "I'm quite certain you did."

She doesn't argue, eyes rolling once more as she fidgets around the bed until she can give him her back, reaching over to the side table so she can reach her phone to turn the alarm off.

Killian for his bit, groans, and she soon figures it out as the very prominent proof of his morning erection digs into her ass and so she can't help that she lets out a chorus of laughter, her head flinging backwards.

"Swan," he warns when she moves again as she settles the phone back on the table.

And that earns him another chorus of laughter.

"You're not helping matters," he complains.

She's still got that smug smirk on her lips when she faces him and honestly, she must have miscalculated because she's suddenly close to his face - far too close for her own comfort.

His eyes are blazing as they stare down at hers and she lets out a gasp against him, gulping noisily and he can tell, she knows he can, from the obvious way her throat moves. One thing is for sure, though, the smugness is definitely gone from her features. And his.

His eyes are dark as they stare back, flickering down to her lips before they're back on hers.

And he's going to kiss her, she knows he's going to kiss her when he goes to move forward, his hand moving upwards to cradle her neck, thumb pressing consistently against the soft skin of her cheek. His eyes flicker back up to her lips before he leans in, breath fanning against her lips and her own breath hitches in her throat, eyes sharp on his.

And that is the exact moment her phone decides to beep.

Killian practically jumps back from her, bumping his elbow on his own bedside table and really, she tries not to laugh, she does but the expression on his face calls for it.

He glares in response before sighing heavily and his hand comes up to scratch that spot behind his ear and god, why was that so endearing?

"August, I presume," he murmurs.

He's right, she finds out when she opens her phone.

 **Unless you gave into the sexual tension with your blue eyed pirate, and you probably didn't knowing you, then there is so reasonable explanation for you to be late. Get your ass into work, Emma Swan.**

(She's quite sure everybody at work calls him a pirate by now.)

She grins at the message, phone bouncing on the bed as she watches Killian stretch and groan, watching the length of his neck as his head tilts backwards, arm raising above his head and she gulps at the display of bare chest.

(Why did he sleep shirtless again?)

He smirks at her when her gaze lasts a little bit too long on him and now, she's the one blushing and looking away, choosing that moment to text August back.

 _ **Mind your business, Booth. Appointment before work, be there before 11.**_

"Like what you see, Swan?" he asks, mirth dancing in his eyes.

She rolls her eyes, covers her embarrassment over with a snort as she sits up, sliding out of bed.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Jones," she tells him firmly. "And get ready, we have to leave in half an hour."

"Yes, dear," he mutters as she makes a move for the bathroom, her phone heavy in her hand.

 **Take that as a no, then. Pity. I was hoping for new gossip. Do tell me first when you inevitably jump the guys bones. A lot of word around the office about how good he is in bed, color me intrigued.**

She shudders as the door closes behind her, biting her lip as she thought back to the way she'd come close.

(But, honestly, at this point, she's half sure August wants to hook up with him.)

 _ **Don't get your hopes up. And back to work, Booth.**_

 **Yes, boss.**


	11. Therapy And Accidents

**updates may be more frequent as of late, who knows? but i'm trying guys, i promise! hope you like this one which is very heavily emma based and we get to see more into her feelings and flash backs to the accident (sorta). and more on august and emma's relationship which i love love love! it's so fun to write. also, i'm very, very sorry for this. please don't hate me.**

 **\- shauna! xo**

* * *

Therapy sucks.

It takes exactly ten minutes into her first session for Emma to realise how much she hates going to therapy with a burning passion.

She sits there, with brown, judging eyes glaring back at her in silence for the majority of the first session with her arms crossed over her chest defiantly, her own, green eyes glaring down at the cheap, red and blue carpet. And she hates silence, god does she hate silence. So really, it isn't all that long before she cracks.

He's old, her therapist. A lot older than she is anyway.

She'd put him at about forty five, maybe fifty.

And he had a really creepy stare.

But who was she to judge?

"Emma," he starts, voice soft as to not scare her and she really, kind of, seriously, wants to push him in the face because she wasn't that weak. "Emma," he repeats again, voice a little firmer.

She sighs loudly, arms crossing over her chest.

"Yes?"

He smiles slightly at her willingness to talk and his head tilts to the side.

"Why don't we start with when you woke up in the hospital," he begins.

Emma stiffens at that, she can't help it.

The worry. The pain. The shock.

The way she'd startled forward, a gasp on her lips as she tried to sit up, in shock as she'd tried to breathe. The aches that spread throughout her body and the pained cry that had echoed throughout the small hospital room and how she'd been scared, frightened even, until a hand had griped hers and brought her back to reality.

She'd tried to move but she'd been pushed back with large hands.

And she remembered, very clearly, the very, intense, broken look on Killian's face as he'd looked down at her, his eyes wide and blue.

His raspy voice as he'd managed to gasp her name out.

"Emma."

She startles back to reality, and she knows her eyes are wide and disbelieving when she glances back up, Killian's face morphing back into her therapists.

John, as he's told her to refer to him as.

Unlike Killian's concerned blue ones, they were hard and brown and full of sympathy as he reached forward.

"It's okay," he sympathises. "You're going to be okay."

But she's not interested, shaking her head vehemently as though to shake the bad memories away.

When she speaks, she's the one that sounds broken and really, she sort of is.

"You were saying?"

She catches a brief look that she can't quite place passing over his face before he leans back in his black chair, hands folding over his lap with his fingers entwining.

"How did you feel?" he asks, "When you woke up and realised that someone had attempted to kill you?"

And that, Emma decides, that one moment is when she starts to break down.

-/-

"How did you feel when you woke up to see your friend by your side?"

"How did you think they felt when they thought you were gone?"

"How much do you remember of the accident?"

"Are you having any more flashbacks?"

And honestly, all the therapist sessions start to draw together to where Emma's not entirely sure where they all begin and where they all end. Really, though, she's not sure she wants to. Not when she feels like this.

Broken. Empty. Weak.

She doesn't want to be weak.

So, when he brings Killian up, his eyes carefully categorising her reaction, she closes off, her eyes hardening.

"We don't need to discuss... him," she hesitates, though her tone is firm.

She can't even say his name.

She tries so hard to not think about the accident and the way his face was the last one she saw, the way his eyes glared back at her, harsh and unforgiving as his arm laced around a leggy brunette before they'd kissed enthusiastically.

"Yes," John cuts in firmly. "We do."

"Well, I don't," she snaps back, her eyes clouding up and even she can feel them, the walls - the ones she knows Killian has worked so hard on breaking down - building back up, forming a protective shield over her.

"You may not want to," he says, voice soft. "But you need to. You do," he insists at her stare, "If you have any hope of moving on. On recovering from this tragedy."

And break down, does she.

(She also ignores Killian all the way to their work, her eyes settled firmly on the road as she tried to ignore the blotches of red that she knew were covering her face.)

(It was all going to be okay, if she could just get through today.)

(It had to be - she had to survive this.)

-/-

She can't face Killian that night.

She manages to avoid him at work but she knows she won't be able to manage it for long. In an attempt, however, she stays late that night for a meeting with Graham (they'd been having pretty regular ones to do with this new case as of late - though, she was still confined to desk duty) along with August who drives her home that night.

The look on Killian's face as she'd kept her head facing forward, eyes hard, when she'd told him she was staying late, similarly to that when she'd first woke up, was also engrained in her mind.

"Okay," he says, voice tinged with confusion.

His eyebrows were drawn together as she'd looked up, his dull eyes echoing his hurt, and she felt her heart ache right along with him. She'd nearly changed her mind right then but had decided to grit her teeth, watching his jaw clench and tongue pop.

He hesitates before leaving.

"I guess I'll just see you later then."

She merely presses her lips together with a short nod and then gestures to the work load in front of her.

"Well," she licks her lip, tone tense, "I really should get back to it."

"Of course." He nods.

"I'll see you at home tonight," he sighs.

"I guess."

He seems to linger, though, his eyes glazing into hers before he sighs, hand coming up to scratch that damn spot behind his ear like he always does when he gets nervous and that breaks out a hesitant smile on her lips.

"I'll see you at home," he repeats and he seems slightly more settled.

Then, he's gone, and she's left watching as he walks out of their and she can't help but wonder if it's the end of them. But the words - his last words to her, certainly strike a very permanent cord with her.

Home.

And as usual, August just won't shut up on their way home.

"Killian seemed upset early," he starts and she sighs at the words.

"Yepp."

She glares out the wind shield, eyes glued to the road as he drives.

His eyes narrow as he focuses heavily on the road and he sighs, loudly.

"What did you do?"

"Me?" her voice goes up an octave as the words comes out as a squeak.

Somehow he manages to rolls his eyes and snort simultaneously.

"Please, Ems," he says and she's startled to find out that they're back at Killian's as he slows down, parking outside the front gates and his eyes finally flicker to hers when the car pulls to a slow stop, a knowing look in them. "It's not exactly going to be him now. Is it?"

"And why not?"

She glares at him.

He snorts.

"Please," his lips twist up. "The guy's positively in love with you. Like he'd do anything to hurt you."

"No," she sighs and her eyes are hard as they glare forward. "But I'd hurt him."

He sighs.

"Ems," he pleads, hand reaching forward to rest softly on his shoulder as his head tips sideways. "Will you please tell me what's going on?"

When she speaks, it sounds as though she's been crying for hours and her eyes flicker up to his.

"I don't know," she sighs and she feels the tears gathering in her eyes, the redness beginning to creep up on her cheeks. "I really don't. Not any more."

And then, like the therapist session earlier, it's like the dams burst open. August shuffles forward just as she goes to meet him, tears dripping heavily down her face as her throat constricts on a very loud sob.

"I just don't," she sobs as her hands fist into his jacket, her fingers curling around the black coat.

"It's okay," he says, voice against her ear. "It's okay, Ems. I've got you. I've got you," he repeats.

-/-

When she goes back in, it's nearly midnight and she tiptoes up the stairs, in hopes of sneaking into the guest room because really, she honestly, cannot handle Killian Jones and his intensity at this present moment.

That plan, however, is thwarted when she walks in, kicking her heels off with a sigh and Ruby is sat there on the sofa in the living room.

The main thing she notices is the large bottle of rum that rests in her hands and she forgets everything that she has planned.

She sneaks forward and curses when the floorboards creak underneath her bare feet, Ruby's head snapping up to face hers. Her eyes are bloodshot when her eyes glare over at hers and she notices how bloodshot they are, can see the haziness echoing through them that gives her the indication that she's been at it for a while.

And what is she doing here?

"Ruby," she manages to squeak out. "What are you doing here? Where's your brother?"

She doesn't answer. Not straight away at least.

Her eyes glare down at the bottle in her hands and murmurs something unintelligible.

She walks forward, footsteps slow as to not send her running for the hills.

"What's wrong?"

And god, is that how it feels to say that?

Her eyes stay on the floor as she sits next to him on the cough, her leg pressing firmly into hers.

"It's Killian," he says quietly and then his eyes shoot back up towards hers, the drunk haze in them reflecting her pain.

And god, the way her heart drops to her stomach, she never wants to feel this way again because what about Killian? She just saw him mere hours ago. He was fine. He had to be fine.

She gulps at the sadness in her tone, the way it seeps through her voice even as she twists towards her. Her skin looks pale, eyes sunken into her skin and god, what was wrong with Killian?

"What is it?" she asks, voice urgent.

She watches her gulp, watches as she seemingly gets a grip on her emotions only to lose it a minute later.

"There's been an accident."

Ruby's eyes are on hers as her own, green ones widen.

"W-what?" she stutters because she had to have heard her wrong, right?

He was fine. She'd swear by it.

"Killian's on life support."

And Emma's left to break down all over again.


	12. Hopeless

**another update so soon? what is happening? well, i was completely blown away by the response to the last chapter. thank you to everyone who left reviews and comments. they inspired me to write another chapter so here you go! keep this up and there may even be another one tomorrow!**

 **\- shauna! xo**

* * *

Emma's not quite sure how long she sits there, her eyes wide and full of disbelief before heavy footsteps startle her out of her funk and when she looks up, she finds August running through the living room, barely stopping at her feet.

"Ems," he breathes and she can see his own tears welling up. "God, Emma. I-I'm so-"

She doesn't let him finish and she allows the sob to break free, coming out strangled and broken as she startles forwards into his arms as the tears stream continuously down her face. She buries her face in his neck, allowing tears to soak his t-shirt as she grips his work shirt in her palms, scrunching the material up.

"No," she screams, the sound eerily quiet and despite that, it echoes around the room. "No, no, no," she repeats.

August's arms tighten around her and she spins around, her eyes wild and bloodshot as she glares down at Ruby.

"What happened?" she asks, voice quiet. "I don't- I don't," she stutters, the words coming out choked as she lets another sob free. "I don't understand," she manages, "What the hell went on?"

Ruby's own eyes are full of unshed tears, her dark hair flowing as she stumbles forward.

"I don't know," she tells the blonde. "I really don't."

And it's morbid in the most sickening of ways. Those exact words that Emma had just used moments ago. Those moments ago when she thought everything was going to hell, when she didn't think she'd survive. She was wrong. She would have survived that.

But this? Standing in his living room with the knowledge that he's out that suffering?

That, is what she wouldn't survive.

"I need to see him."

She doesn't even realised the words have slipped out until August is back in her vision, standing loosely at Ruby's side.

"I need-" she chokes off on another sob and her hands run through her blonde hair frantically as she tries to make sense of the world around her. "God!" she screams. "I need to see him. This can't- this can't be happening."

But, one look at Ruby's face and she knows it is.

She still needs to see him.

Needs to see those blue eyes staring back at her and those red lips twisting up into a sinful smirk as he throws innuendo's at her. But, most of all, she just needs him.

She doesn't even realised she's stumbling forward until Ruby's arms clapse around her heavily and clumbsily in her half drunken state. They stand there, sobbing into each other's necks and she barely hears August tell them they have to go.

"Come on," he's saying. "He needs us. Now more than ever."

He's right. She knows he's right.

And she needs this. She needs to see him right now.

"I was waiting for you," Ruby admits in a hushed whisper, her voice hoarse with crying. "Killian mentioned the two of you were getting a lot closer and god knows you are, if what I saw before I left was any indication," she rambles on, "And just- I. I don't want to be alone. I can't do that alone. I can't see him like that- a-and I know him - my brother - there isn't anyone he'd want at his side more than you."

Emma doesn't say anything, doesn't have to and she just stands there until she feels two hands tugging her.

"Come on," August is saying, though she can barely focus on the sounds he makes when he talks. "We have to go."

So, she stumbles forward on numb legs and allows herself to be dragged forward as they move for the care.

God.

This was such a mess.

But, even as they get in the car, Ruby's eyes are still on hers and they're softer now, less of a drunken haze reflecting in them.

"He'll be okay," she tells her, voice quiet. "He's a fighter, him. It's in his blood. He'll fight," she insists. "He's going to be just fine."

Emma wonders if Ruby is saying the words to reassure herself just as much as she is to reassure her and Emma wanders if it fails as much to Ruby as it does to herself and she honestly doesn't know how to deal with her emotions.

-/-

When they arrive at the hospital, she's beyond consolation and Emma has beyond worked her up into hysterics.

God. This just wasn't happening.

She's thankful August is there, though, and thankful, he's the one out of the three of them that is at least a little in control of himself, his feelings (someone had to drive, didn't they?). His hand is wrapped tightly around hers, fingers squeezing hers as they wait at reception to the hospital.

Ruby is on her other side, her arm latching onto Emma's as she grits her teeth, talking to the woman.

And god, she practically snarls in an attempt to get her way.

"Where," she hisses, "Is Killian Jones?"

"Who may I ask is requesting that information?"

If Ruby didn't punch that look off of the woman's face, she might.

"His sister," she glares.

"Of course, Miss Jones," she tells her, lightly before she proceeds to read off a room number, followed by a long list of directions which she barely hears, her eyes swelling red and she stumbles forward as Ruby clutches onto her.

When they get to his room, the glass is see through and she stills, her limbs freezing as she stares.

Emma doesn't think she's ever seen Killian Jones look so helpless and she hates it.

She hates the way his entire body is linked up to tubes, the life support machine to his left and the paleness of his skin that she can detect even from here, the way his eyes appear to be sunken into his skin and the dark bags under his eyes. His usually bright eyes left closed and his lips, so usually red, now, pale with a hint of blue.

She doesn't cry, doesn't think she's capable of any more tears.

She's merely left to stare through the transparent window as she drowns out the sounds of Ruby's sobs and the unmistakable sound of heels as she storms forward into the room. Her eyes are wide as she stares when Ruby almost drops to her knees at Killian's side and she barely notices when August pulls her back against him.

"It's okay," he's saying, at least, she thinks he is. "It's going to be okay."

But, it's not.

Nothing's okay. And it won't be.

Nonetheless, she allows herself to be comforted as she yanks and pulls on his coat.

"No," the words are barely mouthed. "No."

"It's okay," he keeps repeating and she feels as though he's trying to reassure her and himself, much like Ruby, but she doesn't really care.

She just wants to go back before she went to that stupid therapist session and decided to stay that long just to avoid him when now, she'd do anything to just see his smile and those irritatingly, blue eyes. If she hadn't wanted to avoid him, if she hadn't stayed late, then, Killian wouldn't have left early and he would be fine. He would safe and healthy and not on fucking life support!

Honestly, what was she supposed to do now?

She doesn't know how long they stand there, her eyes closing on a loud cry as tears roll down her face, her fingers frantically swiping under her eyes to rub the tears away to no avail as more drip down noisily.

His arms are tight around her waist and they both jump as the door slams. She pulls her head up from his chest, twisting sideways until her gaze collides with Ruby's.

"I'm going to the cafeteria," Ruby declares. "I'm in desperate need of a coffee."

Emma tries to smile, she does, but honestly, she's not sure what her face looks like right now.

"Bring me back one too?"

Ruby nods and her eyes flicker to Augusts pointedly.

He coughs and sidesteps from Emma, his eyes looking back down at hers as he scans her form.

She sighs.

"I'm fine," Emma tells him.

"Are you?"

Instead of answering, she deflects.

"You should go get some food," she says instead. "You haven't eaten anything all day, you must be starving."

August's eyes flicker to the room where he's staying before he nods.

"Okay," he says with a sigh and he hugs her tightly one last time before he joins Ruby's side. "I'll be five minutes. Ten max."

"I'll be here."

Where else would she be?

-/-

She's actually glad for the time alone, not exactly happy but she's allowed time to be left alone with her thoughts for a while and thats'... well, she needs it. For a moment or two or even three, at least.

She doesn't realise she's walking into his room until she stands at his feet and she barely feels her hand moving until her fingers curl around his and the coldness of his skin almost makes her jump three feet into the air.

At a closer look, she notices the dried blood on his face, at his hairline, and she sees the lack of expression on his face. She hates it - she hates it so much that she can't even comprehend it.

Killian Jones isn't lifeless or expressionless. He never was.

And he doesn't deserve to be in here.

Her fingers are clenching at his as she drops to the floor, missing the chair at the side of his hospital bed with a loud clang. Tears are running once more and she's sobbing so harshly that she feels like she's choking on her own agony.

She knows the mascara is staining her cheeks as she breaks down, her head flopping forwards against the metal of the bed as her throat clenches around a long, well, awaited sob. Looks like she wasn't all cried out after all.

But as she looked up to catch a glance at his face, she noticed him once more and laying there like that...

He looked hopelessly dead.


	13. News

_**this has taken me forever to get out, and**_ _ **i suck, and i'm sorry. but, exams and school did overtake my life for a while there, and then**_ _ **i was writing for the cs big bang so all my efforts were focused on that, but**_ _ **i didn't manage to get it all out, so apologies! that beings said, i do have a fair few chapters of 'make you feel my love' pre-written, so watch out for it on sunday! possibly earlier.**_

 _ **anyways, hope you enjoy this one and i promise it won't be long until the next chapter.**_

 _ **shauna!xo**_

* * *

She doesn't quite know how much time passes when she stands there, her eyes wide, as she stares down at him. At the lifeless version of him. Her hands dangle loosely by her sides, as though she doesn't know what to do with them. And she doesn't. They haven't been empty for some time now. Lately, it's felt like every time she'd look down at her hands, she'd find her fingers intertwined with Killian's.

But not now.

And she's never felt this empty. Not ever.

Not even when Neal left.

That's possible because she never loved him, not completely, at least. She didn't have the time to. She never knew him properly, not like she did Killian, and his leaving did break her, but not like seeing Killian no more alive than somebody she'd seen in the morgue.

She just couldn't believe it. She couldn't believe that the person on the bed was him. It couldn't be.

Her steps are careful, extraordinarily so, as she edges forward towards the bed, and the closer the gets, the more fearful she feels. Because he didn't deserve to be here, he didn't deserve to be so pale, and fragile.

It should be her.

(Never him.)

Her fingers curl in on themselves, her fingernails digging harshly into her skin, and she winces slightly as she twists too far to the right. The bruising on her ribs is great now, much more improved, but it still hurts now and again when she moves too suddenly. However, the doctors have reassured her that it is normal and that everything will return to normal in the next few weeks.

(Well, almost.)

But, she'll take it. She'll take everything, all the pain in the world, if it meant that Killian would be okay, because the pressure on her heart, the way her eyes seem to tear up at every glance at him, just isn't worth it.

She just wants him to be okay, again. And he would be, she reassured herself.

Even if she wasn't quite sure that it was the truth.

Because he had to be. Didn't he? Because at this point, she's not sure she can live without him, and most importantly, she doesn't want to live without him. Not now, and certainly not ever, because she needs him.

She needs to see his stupid smirk on a morning when he catches her staring at him, whilst he pretends to be asleep. She needs his smile, as he waits for her to finish work, and the soft look in his eyes as he cooks her dinner. She needs to watch his cheeks redden, when she embarrasses him, and she needs to see him scratching that damn spot behind his ear.

But most importantly, she just needs him, and she refuses to settle for any leIt'ss.

(He would return back to her, one way or the other, she'd make sure of that.)

She doesn't quite feel her legs as she stumbles forward, and she knows there are tears helplessly and silently falling down her face, and she's too powerless, too weak, to stop them.

She nearly falls, at seeing him this close, because she knew he looked so helpless from so far back there, but it's even worse here, when she can see his eyes, black and bruised, and his lips, too pale, because they were always red. Always. He looks even more pale through this light, with all the tubes sticking in him, and it's then that she crumbles.

Her arms shoot forward, and her right hand catches the edge of the plastic chair, just in time before she collapses to the floor. She's teetering on her tip toes, as she heaves over the navy blue chair, her eyes darting over his face, but she pushes the chair out of the way, as she stands at the side of the bed, her jeans brushing up against the hospital's bedding.

Her hands are shaking, as her fingertips reach forward to brush against his pale face, and he's cold, too, she realises. And it's wrong. It's all so wrong, because Killian was never cold. Never. It's one of the main things that she teased him about, actually. That he was a main source of heat for her.

(Not anymore.)

"Oh, Killian," she mutters brokenly, and then she does collapse, falling to the floor, sobbing loudly to herself, as she whispers his name to herself, over and over, because this couldn't be real.

(It just couldn't.)

-/-

 _It was the morning that she was due for her first appointment with the therapist that Graham had appointed her, as his ultimatum, that she could only return to full time work, providing that she at least tried to see someone._

 _Damn Killian and his good form of making sure she'd arrive there fine, because otherwise, she wasn't planning on going at all, and from the knowing glint in his blue eyes, he damn well knew that._

 _"I just want you to face your problems, Swan," he'd told her, with his blue eyes so wide and honest. "I just want to make sure you're okay."_

 _And honestly, she couldn't resist his eyes, so she'd begrudgingly accepted his invitation to him dropping her off outside the therapist office, as if she wasn't regretting her decision._

 _So, it's that morning, when she wakes up before her alarm, she turns it off, and turns on her side, wincing at the sharp jolt in her ribs. She stares up at him, as he slips, and he's actually not snoring for once._

 _Pity, because she totally needed blackmail material to prove to him that he did snore, but still..._

 _She watches him breathe, his eyes fluttering, and his lips are pressed loosely together, and her own lips twist upwards into a smile at the image he paints. He looks so boyish like this, so relaxed, and honestly, if she hadn't have dropped her phone back on the nightstand, she'd be tempted to take a picture._

 _(He'd hate that too, probably, but she knows she can get away with almost anything with him.)_

 _She presses her side against him, and she could seriously moan at the warmth he radiates, because jesus, how could one person be so hot?_

 _(Pun intended.)_

 _Her head falls to his chest, her blonde curls framing her face, and she grins into his chest. Her toes sneak out from her side of the bed, and she presses them against him, because she's cold, freezing even, and he's asleep, offering body heat, and she's so not going to turn that down. However, what she's not expecting is for him to jump against her._

 _She squeezes her eyes shut, and maybe she can feign sleep?_

 _"Jesus, Swan," he mutters, and honestly the way his voice sounds in the morning, so low and gravelly, is a complete turn on. "Your toes are like ice cubes."_

 _She laughs into his chest, though she doesn't lift her head._

 _"Sorry, we can't all radiate heat like you, Jones," she murmurs._

 _She feels his hand as it travels down her back, his fingertips sneaking under the black tank top she'd wore to bed, and she sighs at the warmth he presses against her, pressing back against him firmly. She sighs at the pleasure of it, of the morning, really. His fingers draw patterns on her skin, and she hums in response._

 _She feels his fingers freeze, though._

 _"What time is it, Swan?"_

 _"Um... 7am?" she tries for, and she yanks her head back, her eyes rolling up to meet his, as she tries for a cute smile._

 _He narrows his eyes, clearly not believing her._

 _"Then, why is it so light outside?"_

 _She growls under her breath._

 _"Damn your sailor genes," she mutters._

 _He sighs, and shifts to the side slightly. Emma watches as he fumbles to the side slightly for his phone, and then blinking stupidly at the sudden bright light when he finds it, before he drops it onto the sheets with a sigh._

 _"9am, Swan?" he asks her, though it's mostly rhetorical, and she merely smiles at his disapproving stare. "Come on then, up with you. You have an oppointment."_

 _She grumbles as she fidgets, moving back over to her side of the bed (and when did she get her own side of the bed on his bed?), settling back against the pillows._

 _"I hate you," she grumbles, to him, as he jumps out of the bed.  
_

 _Seriously, he was way too much of a morning person for her tastes._

 _His head snaps around, and she's not surprised to see a smug grin on his red lips._

 _"No. You don't, Swan. You like me." A pause, and then, "Especially my body heat."_

 _She growls and chucks a pillow at his retreating figure but she misses._

 _Bastard._

 _(Even if he was right.)_

 _-/-_

She's not sure how much time passes, as she gets lost in her memories, but there's suddenly a hand on her shoulder, and her head snaps up, her eyes wide and feral, as she glares up.

(God, did she fall asleep?)

"Hey, Ems."

It's August, and he's smiling down at her softly, with that knowing look in his eyes but it's tinged with hurt, and anger. She keeps forgetting. She's not the only one that's come close to loosing Killian, too.

She tries to smile back at him, but she knows it comes out as more of a grimace.

"Ruby is still in the cafeteria. Ordered a coffee, trying to get over her hangover, I believe," August tells her, his voice quiet, as his eyes glance over at Killian's form before they snap back over to hers and he speaks again. "Graham is here," he tells her slowly, "He wants to talk to you, says he has some news."

Her forehead crumples slightly at that but she nods, and accepts August's hand as he helps her to her feet.

"You go, he sounded impatient," he murmurs. "I'll wait here."

The with Killian is implied, and she sort of loves him for it, because even if he isn't awake, she doesn't want to be alone.

She squeezes his hands briefly, and she presses her lips together, as her eyes flicker up to his.

"Thank you," she tells him.

He nods, and she turns to move away, as she hears the scrape of a chair, signalling that August has sat down, and as she leaves the room, she knows she's not imagining the sound of his shaky sigh.

(Killian was going to be okay, she kept repeating to herself over and over, in her head.)

(He had to be, for the cause of her sanity.)

It turns out that Graham is waiting, barely a few feet outside of the hospital room, with a coffee cup clenched in his hands, as he sits down in one of the waiting seats. His head snaps up when he hears footsteps, and she watches as he coughs, moving to stand.

"Emma," he nods, his eyes soft. "How are you?"

She presses her lips together and she doesn't want to answer the question. She doesn't want to lie.

So, she chokes back the emotion in her throat and she gestures to him.

"You wanted to see me?" she asks instead.

The look on his face clearly tells her that he isn't fooled, but he nods, and continues to speak anyway.

"Yes," he coughs again. "I realise this isn't the best time, with everything..." he pauses, and shakes his head, as though to clear it, "But I wanted to inform you of a break in the investigation."

Her eyes narrow slightly, because seriously, this couldn't have waited just a few short hours?

When she parts her lips to say as much, Graham shakes his head at her and continues speaking, "We have cause to believe that the current case, is linked to your crash, and that it was by no means, an accident or a coincidence."

Wait, what?

What did he mean, a coincidence?

"And we also have cause to believe that both are also linked with Killian's recent trauma."


	14. More Tears

_**a big thank you to everybody who reviewed in the last chapter. sorry that it took me so long to get out but real life gets in the way sometimes. i hope to keep up this frequent updating (like once a week), but i am moving house next weekend, so it may be a little bit longer. two weeks at most, i promise! anyways, hope you all like this one.**_

 _ **\- shauna! xo**_

* * *

"We also have cause to believe that both are also linked with Killian's recent trauma."

Her eyes are wide, as she stares up at Graham, and she immediately knows there's tears there. Stupid, tratorous feelings.

She's not sure why she's so shocked, because she pretty much knew it wasn't an accident. Hers? Perhaps. But with Killian's accident so close to hers and in such a similar way? She knew that it couldn't have been a coincident. Not that she believes in coincidences, anyway.

Maybe, she's in denial. Maybe she's still just reeling in from the news of the accident.

"Excuse me?"

Her voice cracks, when she speaks, and she knows it's because of the emotion welling in her chest, the way the tears are beginning to spill out from her eyes.

She watches as Graham's hands reach out towards her before they drop back to his sides with a loud sigh, as he seemingly thinks better of reaching for her. He doesn't repeat himself though, he merely stares up at her with those big, pitful eyes of his.

"I'm sorry, Ems," he says, slowly. "I'm really sorry."

Her eyebrows furrow, as her eyes narrow, because he's talking like it's all over, and he's speaking to her, like he would a grieving family member back at the station, and that's... that's just completely unacceptable, because he's not dead. He was going to be fine, and in a few months, they'd all look back at this stupid event, and smile, because they'd made it this far.

She glares, even though she knows the effect is ruined when she sniffles, her hands coming up to wipe under her eyes, slim fingers rubbing the tears away.

"He's fine," she tells him, her voice flat.

Graham startles slightly at that.

"Em-"

"He's fine," she repeats, holding a hand up as he goes to interrupt her. "He's going to be fine. He's going to wake up soon, and everything's going to be okay. You'll see," she insists.

Graham's eyes seem to soften even further, and he sighs.

"I sincerely hope so," he tells her, with every bit of sincerity he has.

Emma relaxes slightly, though her arms cross over her chest, as she looks over at her boss, her shoulders loosening slightly, because at least he wasn't looking at her like that anymore. She didn't know if she could take it, because she wasn't grieving.

There was nothing to grieve. He was still here.

She tries to smile at him, reassuringly, since she knows he's looking at her like she's lost her mind, but it comes out as more of a grimace, the tears falling silently down her face, and she tastes the salt water as she sighs, breathing in deeply.

Graham doesn't try to smile back, as she steps forward.

"We're going to find them," she declares suddenly, and even she knows her eyes are wild and feral, as she looks up at the older man. "Those who did this. We're going to find them," she clarifies.

Graham looks back at her, and she's surprised to the see the hard look in his eyes.

"Absolutely," he tells her. "You have my word."

She grasps the lapels of his jacket, and she could just break down, at how similar it feels to Killian's parker (the one she knows he saves when he goes back to England to visit his brother), and the one she'd taken to wearing, when he wasn't around and it was cold, even though he'd caught her once or twice. She knows he loves it really. He'd already admitted it once or twice that he liked seeing her in his clothing.

(But god, Liam. They needed to tell Liam.)

 _Killian had started going back to work, before she had. She knew the Captain had given him a couple of weeks off work to take care of her and god, she could kill the both of them for that - she was a grown woman, for Christ sake, and she could take care of herself. But, she did admit, begrudgingly, that it was nice to not have to do everything, and Killian's bed was more comfortable than hers._

 _So, around the second week of living with him (temporarily, she reminds herself), she pretty much sends him back to work._

 _"There's no point in both of us missing weeks of this case," she'd pointed out, glaring at him, as she'd dared him to cut her off. "And you can catch me up, rather quickly when you get home, and I'm sure we'll come to a conclusion much more quickly. Besides, Graham's understanding but I know he's already been bugging you about coming back."_

 _Killian's ready to argue she knows that, but he doesn't, and the both of them are surprised._

 _"You heard that?" he asks instead._

 _She snorts, rolling her eyes._

 _"You're not as stealthy as you may think, Jones. Besides, do you really think I don't know how to feign sleep? Please, my actress skills are amazing, thank you very much."_

 _He grins, though he shakes his head, and she knows he'll agree to pretty much whatever she wants, so she sweetens the deal._

 _"Please, Killian," she even gives him her adult version of the puppy dog eyes. "I miss work. Being bed ridden isn't all it's cracked up to bed, you know, and I'll find out much more, if you go back."_

 _She watches him as he rolls his eyes._

 _"Always an ulterior motive with you," he murmurs._

 _She grins._

 _"You know me too well." A pause. "So you'll go back to work? Please?" She even pouts at him._

 _He rolls his eyes once more (and maybe they had been spending too much time together lately), sighing under his breath._

 _"As you wish, Swan," he murmurs, and he moves forward to press a lingering kiss to her cheek._

 _She grins, as he straightens up slightly._

 _"So, what would you like for dinner, tonight?"_

 _(She also could totally live with his cooking forever.)_

 _So, he ends up going back to work the next day, and Emma's kind of pleased to have a few moments to herself. It's been strange, to say the least, that she hadn't been alone for a single second, lately. Not that she disliked that. She dare say she enjoyed having Killian around, but it was something she wasn't use to, being taken care of._

 _(She's quite sure she could, if given the time to.)_

 _She can move around now, if her movements are slow enough, and it helps that Killian has no stairs, so she makes it into the living room that day, humming under her breath as she makes herself comfortable on his couch, turning on Netflix. She eventually decides on Pretty Little Liars, and figures she'd save watching the new episode of Once Upon A Time for when Killian was home. He totally loved that show, and nobody could convince her otherwise. Whether he wanted to admit it, or not._

 _Emma finds it's strange to be alone with her thoughts, and she rethinks the day before, as she watches the television._

 _It doesn't take her long to realise that she called this Home, and she freezes. She called his apartment home. What terrifies her the most, is how much she didn't regret that, and how much she actually meant it. Because it was. At least for now, and she could let that be, without reading too much into it for once, because she was happy. Even if her ribs killed._

 _An hour later, she's humming to herself as she wanders into the kitchen, and she's smiling to herself, when she sees the food on the kitchen counter, with a note attached to it._

 ** _Emma,_**

 ** _Make sure you eat your breakfast, probably brunch knowing you. You and I both know you need your strength, and we also both know you can't cook to save your life, so make sure you eat up. I'll bring Thai home for dinner,_**

 ** _Killian._**

 _Stupid, adorable idiot. Even if she narrows her eyes at the cooking thing, but he is right, so she lets it slide._

 _She sighs, as she puts the sandwich onto a plate, and when she looks up she sees a jacket hanging up behind the kitchen door. She peeks at it, sneaking forward in curiosity, and she runs her fingers over it, when she's close enough._

 _Strange, because she's never seen Killian in a parka. He seems to favour that leather jacket of his, not that she'd complain. He did make leather look good._

 _She sighs at how soft it is, and she is cold, and since she hasn't quite learned how to adjust the heating, she slips it off the hanger, slipping her arms through it. She grins when her head tilts to the side, her nose brushing up against the soft, black material, and then sighing, when she sniffs. It smells of him, and that makes her happy._

 _Killian always does smell nice, almost reminds her of the forest. Almost homey, and she always likes to press her nose against his henley, when they lay in bed, and she knows he's asleep (except for the one time he caught her). So, she takes her sandwich and his coat (which she's totally claiming now), and snuggles up on the couch once more._

 _(Even if it makes her miss him even more. Adorable idiot.)_

 _She practically jumps out of her skin when she hears the door slam, not an hour later, and she bites her lip, when she realises she's still in his coat._

 _Did she fall asleep? She must have, that's the only explanation, and she feels slightly disorientated, when she hears his heavy footsteps._

 _"Honey, I'm home," she hears his voice yell out loudly, almost mockingly, and she grins, despite herself at that._

 _It had sort of been a private joke between the two of them, whenever he'd left and come back, since the time she'd berated him for not telling her he was leaving. What? She had been worried. What if something had happened to him?_

 _Not that she admitted that to him though, even if she had a feeling that he knew._

 _She hears him in the kitchen before he comes trailing into the room, that leather jacket she loves so much still on his shoulders._

 _"Swan," he grins, and she smiles back, at the way he can light up a room, when he looks at her like that._

 _"Jones," she nods._

 _His eyes narrow as he settles into the room, pausing at the edge of the coffee table._

 _"Is that my coat?"_

 _"Um..."_

 _She inwardly panicks, because maybe she shouldn't just go around stealing his clothes._

 _Killian chuckles though, shaking his head._

 _"In my clothes again, Swan," he grins. "One might think you have a thing for me, as the kids say."_

 _She snorts, shaking her head._

 _"In your dreams, Jones," she tells him._

 _He grins back._

 _"Not anymore," he tells her confidently, before he shrugs. "Admittedly, it does look better on you than it does me."_

 _(He never got the coat back.)_

When she blinks, coming back to, Graham is looking down at her concerned, when he registers the tears in her eyes.

"Oh, Em," he says, his voice full of pity, and then she's breaking down once more, as she grips onto the lapels of his jackets.

"You have to find them," she sobs, as she presses herself against him, trying to find some comfort. "You have to."

His soft eyes are the last thing she remembers, before her eyes turn blury with tears, and then she feels another pair of arms embracing her. August she registers briefly, as Graham passes her off to him, and stands up tall.

"We'll get justice, Emma. We'll find them who did this," Graham promises. "That much I know."

The words get stuck in her throat, as her arms wrap around herself.

They better.

Otherwise, she might have to take things into her own hands.

* * *

 ** _so, what did you guys think?_**

 ** _love it? hate it? did you have a favourite part or a favourite line? let me know what you think in a review!_**

 ** _sorry for all the angst, but i promise it will all be worth it in the end._**

 ** _\- shauna! xo_**


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